


In Momento Temporis

by MiaCooper



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Temporal Paradox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCooper/pseuds/MiaCooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loop One

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the best efforts of my wonderful beta, Mary S, and myself, the location of Voyager’s airponics bay remains a mystery. Even [ Memory Alpha](http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Intrepid_class_decks) has it on three possible decks (Cargo Bay 2 was apparently converted into airponics, but that link has Cargo Bay 2 on both Decks Four and Eight and a separate reference for airponics on Deck 11). For the sake of expediency I’ve located airponics on Deck Four. This is really not important to the story.
> 
> This story is set a couple of weeks after _Unity_ , because my romantic little heart just had to try to make some sense of that episode.
> 
> Warning:  
> Major character deaths. Truckloads of angst. Sex. Also, the occasional profanity.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> The characters, the background and the reset button belong to Paramount. The rest is mine.

* * *

 

**In Momento Temporis**  
_by Mia Cooper_  
  
  
Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment.  
– Kurt Vonnegut  
  
  
**I. Loop One**  
  
~Senior officers to the bridge.~  
  
Rollins’ comm jerks me out of a sound sleep and I’m half-dressed and rocketing into the corridor, pulling my jacket on, before I’m even fully conscious. It’s barely 0300 hours. The hallway is washed with crimson light but the red-alert klaxon is mercifully mute; Rollins, who’s been in command during Gamma shift, must have had it silenced. I stumble into the turbolift and feel it dip and lurch as the ship shudders. _Weapons fire_.  
  
Can we not go a week in the Delta quadrant without some angry alien wanting a piece of us?  
  
Kathryn is already on the bridge when I arrive, impeccably dressed and perfectly coiffed, standing behind the helm with hands on hips. I look positively scruffy beside her and wonder how on earth she got there before I did, looking so flawless. I wonder briefly if she sleeps in uniform.  
  
“Commander,” she acknowledges me.  
  
I raise my eyebrows in return and indicate the large ship on the viewscreen. “I see we’ve made some new friends.”  
  
“Apparently so.”  
  
She glances past me to Harry, who’s just arrived. He shakes his head. “They’re not responding to hails, Captain.”  
  
Ayala hands over tactical when Tuvok enters. He looks immaculate too, but at least I beat him to the bridge. He steps instantly into his role, summing up the situation at a glance. “The alien ship is firing… Our shields are at thirty percent.”  
  
Kathryn takes her seat beside me, her hands curving over the arms of her chair, the picture of calm command. “Target their weapons array and fire phasers, Tuvok.”  
  
“No effect,” he replies after a moment. “I’m detecting a temporal displacement in their shield harmonics.”  
  
Harry suggests sending out a deflector pulse at an inverse harmonic resonance to the ship’s shields. “Do it,” Kathryn orders.  
  
A moment later, the alien ship explodes.  
  
Kathryn bolts to her feet. “Get us out of here, Tom. Harry, re-route all available power to shields and structural integrity,” she shouts. I hear the warp engines engage and a couple of seconds later the shockwave hits us. We’re thrown around and I end up on my hands and knees next to Kathryn, who rolls upright, calling “Report!”  
  
“Hull breach on Deck Four,” Harry shouts back. “The warp core is offline. I’m detecting temporal distortions spreading out from that shockwave.” He pauses, then adds, “Casualty reports are coming in. Two seriously wounded, no fatalities.”  
  
“Tuvok, take a repair crew to seal that breach,” Kathryn says. Then she realises that he’s pitched forward over his console. “Tuvok!”  
  
“Harry, do we have transporters?” I ask. He nods, so I tell him to transport Tuvok to Sickbay and lay a hand on Kathryn’s arm. She wrenches her eyes away from Tuvok’s dematerialising form. “I’ll take care of the breach,” I tell her gently, and she nods. I gesture to a couple of crewmen and we take the turbolift three decks down.  
  
There’s a hole blown in the wall of the airponics bay; forcefields are holding, but it doesn’t look good. I clear a path through the wreckage of the planter shelves and start directing Lewis and Mendez in the repairs. I’m crouched by the EPS panel trying to shore up the forcefield power when I hear Mendez shout a warning, but before I can figure out what he’s trying to tell me, a shock of scorching pain punches into my chest and knocks me to the floor, and everything goes dark.  
  
=/\=  
  
I wake up in Sickbay with a front-row view up the Doctor’s holographic nostrils.  
  
“Ah, welcome back, Commander,” the Doc says, and before I can ask what the hell happened, he explains. “A tachyon surge from the temporal distortions intersected with the EPS console you were working on, and you were hit by a tachyon-infused plasma bolt and knocked unconscious. Your body was in a state of temporal flux when you were transported here, but I’ve counteracted the effects with a chroniton-infused serum. How do you feel?”  
  
I mentally catalogue muscles and tendons, and figure I’ll live. “I’m fine. How long was I out?”  
  
“A couple of hours. I’ll need to run a few tests to confirm you’re all right, but after that I’m confident you can return to duty.”  
  
“How’s the ship?”  
  
“Still in one piece, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you much more than that.” He moves away from my biobed and I follow him with my eyes. Tuvok lies on the bed next to mine. I sit up carefully, gratified that my head feels relatively clear.  
  
“How’s Tuvok?” I ask.  
  
“He sustained several injuries, but nothing I can’t repair. I’ve sedated him for the time being. I’ll let you know when he can be released.” The Doc comes back with a medical tricorder, scans me, asks me questions, and finally nods. “You can go, Commander. I’d suggest you try to stay out of the line of fire from now on, but I’m sure you’ll pay about as much attention to your safety as the Captain does to hers.”  
  
I jump down from the biobed and clap the EMH on the shoulder on my way out of Sickbay. “Thanks, Doc. See you later.”  
  
“Of that I have no doubt,” I hear him reply sarcastically, and I grin as I make my way back up to the bridge.  
  
Kathryn smiles at me as I enter. “How are you feeling, Chakotay?”  
  
I jog down to the command level. “Fighting fit, Captain. What’s our status?”  
  
“Repairs to the hull are underway. Shields and weapons are at full power. The warp core is still down, but B’Elanna’s working on it. Looks like we’re stuck at impulse for the next few hours, at least.”  
  
“Any sign of more of our new friends in the area?”  
  
“Not yet. With any luck, that ship was on its own.” She gestures toward the ready room. “Join me?”  
  
As soon as the door closes behind us she steps up to the viewport, staring out in the direction of the alien debris. I start to get a familiar sinking feeling. “What are you planning?” I ask suspiciously.  
  
Kathryn turns to me and raises her eyebrows. “What makes you think I’m planning something?”  
  
“You forget how well I know you.” I smile at her and she starts to smile back, but then her eyes shutter and she looks away. Just as she has every time we’ve talked over the past couple of weeks. And every single time, it hurts like hell. Because I’m the one who put that wall between us, that shadow in her eyes.  
  
I fucked things up, and she won’t even let me try to apologise. That would mean there was something to fuck up in the first place, and that’s a truth she can’t – or won’t – admit.  
  
I swallow it down again and try to focus on the problem at hand. “What’s your plan, Captain?”  
  
“I want to get a closer look at some of that debris. I’d like to figure out why their shield harmonics have a temporal displacement signature. It may be something we can adapt to Voyager to give us a tactical advantage in the future.”  
  
“Sounds reasonable. What’s the catch?”  
  
“The tractor emitters were damaged in the explosion, and Lieutenant Torres estimates several hours til they’re repaired. So we couldn’t tractor the debris into one of the cargo bays even if we had warp drive to get to it.” She steps up close and meets my gaze head-on, the way she does when she’s going to say something she knows I won’t like, her hands clasped behind her back. “I’m going to take a shuttle, collect some debris and bring it back to Voyager to study it.”  
  
I open my mouth to protest her plan to leave the ship while we’re so vulnerable, as she’s expecting me to do, but something makes me change my mind. “When do we leave?”  
  
She stares. “We?”  
  
“I’m coming with you.”  
  
“Chakotay, we can’t have both ranking officers off the ship at the same –” She breaks off when I raise my eyebrows at her. “All right,” she grumbles, and smiles reluctantly. “Meet me in Shuttlebay Two at 0700. You can drive.”  
  
=/\=  
  
I run through the pre-flight checks, steer the Drake through the shuttlebay doors and set a course for the debris field at warp three. Kathryn activates the sensors and goes to the replicator for a coffee. “Have you eaten yet today?” she asks me.  
  
I shake my head, so she orders me a cup of tea and tosses me a ration pack. “Not exactly haute cuisine,” she smiles as she takes her seat.  
  
“It’ll do. Thank you.” I glance at her sidelong as she sips her coffee and works on a PADD. She appears perfectly at ease, but over the years I’ve become so finely attuned to her every nuance and fleeting mood that I can sense the slight underlying tension in the lines of her body. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to get into it, though, and so I turn back to the helm.  
  
We talk a little during the trip; ship’s business, crew gossip, that kind of thing. Nothing that allows us to stray from those fragile boundaries we’ve been skirting so carefully in recent weeks. It’s all so light, so serene on the surface: a captain and her XO with a publicly comfortable, well-meshed professional relationship. By the time we arrive at the debris field half an hour later and Kathryn starts scanning for a suitable piece of the hull to drag back to Voyager with us, my head is aching and my shoulders knotted from keeping my guard up.  
  
And then, just as we lock onto a segment of hull, Paris hails us from Voyager: there’s a ship on an intercept course, and it matches the signature of the nameless alien vessel we accidentally blasted out of the sky.  
  
The aliens take out the shuttle’s shields with a couple of shots. I fire back, uselessly; Kathryn reports no effect. “Take us to warp,” she orders. But before I can engage engines, the ship fires again.  
  
Kathryn’s console explodes.  
  
I’m thrown from my seat and by the time my head clears, the alien ship has gone. Emergency lights wash the interior and the shuttle’s cabin is filling with smoke from a damaged EPS relay. I grab a fire suppressant unit and douse the flames. “Captain,” I call as I pull myself to a chair and start assessing our status; we’ve lost most of the major systems and we’re dead in space. She doesn’t answer. I turn from my console, searching for her. She’s lying crumpled on the deck, halfway across the cabin.  
  
“Shit!” I grab a medkit and jump to my feet. One buckles under me and I realise I’ve injured my ankle. I hop over to her. “Kathryn!”  
  
Dropping to the floor beside her, I pull out a medical tricorder. No life signs.  
  
Panic grips me but I fight it back. I check for a pulse; there is none. Supporting her neck, I roll her carefully onto her back. Her face is covered in plasma burns. The front of her uniform and half of her torso has been blasted away. I can see the white curve of her ribs through the jagged hole in her chest.  
  
_No_! God, not again, please not again!  
  
Seven weeks ago, our shuttle was caught in an ion storm and we crashed on a planet. She was critically injured and she died in my arms. I worked helplessly over her body for what felt like hours. I was desperate, holding her to me and screaming at her to breathe. It was the worst day of my life.  
  
But then Tuvok and Doctor arrived and the Doc brought her back. Kathryn survived, and that night we went sailing on the holodeck together and I couldn’t stop staring at her, touching and stroking her with my gaze, as though if I looked long enough I’d finally be sure she was all right. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms and just feel her breathing, feel the blood throbbing under her warm soft skin and her pulse against my own, but I knew if I touched her I wouldn’t stop. I think, that night, she might not have made me stop. And that’s why I didn’t touch her.  
  
In this moment, there’s nothing I regret more than not touching her then. I regret never holding her, never kissing her, never telling her how I feel with words that don’t hide and evade but say unequivocally what they mean. I’ll never have that time again, because she’s gone.  
  
Someone is sobbing – harsh, gasping sobs – but there’s nobody else here, and I realise it’s me.  
  
She’s gone.  
  
=/\=  
  
The Doctor repairs my broken ankle and runs a regenerator over the wound on my head. His holographic face is etched in lines of grief. He gives me a painkiller, then rests a hand briefly on my shoulder. “You’re free to go now, Commander. I understand there are … things you’ll need to do, but please, try to get a good night’s sleep.”  
  
I walk out of Sickbay without a backward glance. But in my mind I still see her, lying on a biobed, flatline on the monitor, her body covered in a sheet.  
  
Tom and the Doc came after us in the Sacajawea and beamed us out as soon as they were in range. I flew us back to Voyager while they tried desperately to bring Kathryn back. She was transported to Sickbay as soon as we were close enough to the ship, and the Doc kept working over her for another half hour. But he couldn’t save her.  
  
None of us could save her.  
  
I head to the turbolift on autopilot. I have to get to the bridge, assess our status, tell the crew. “Deck One,” I say. It’s the first thing I’ve said since we got back to the ship, and my voice sounds thick and unfamiliar. Nausea rises in my throat.  
  
“Halt turbolift.”  
  
I gasp for breath, and then my fists are pounding the walls of the ‘lift, over and over. I only stop when my blood stains the turbolift wall and I’ve broken so many knuckles I can no longer form a fist. I lean against the wall. My legs can barely hold me, but I close my eyes and dredge up every last bit of strength I have, and I call for the ‘lift to resume.  
  
I step out onto a bridge that’s shrouded in sorrow. I can’t look at anyone. I go straight to my chair and activate the ship-wide comm.  
  
“All hands, this is Commander Chakotay.” My voice is calm and steady. “As many of you are aware, this morning the Captain and I took a shuttle to investigate the debris of the alien ship. We were attacked and the Captain was injured. Despite all best efforts, I am very sorry to inform you that Captain Janeway did not survive.”  
  
For the first time, I have to pause. I grit my teeth.  
  
“Captain Janeway was the finest officer I have ever had the privilege to serve with. She inspired us, made us into a family, and has kept us together for the past three years through her courage and determination. You all know how proud the Captain was of each and every one of you. I know she would want us to continue our journey home in the same spirit of peace and exploration that she upheld from the day we arrived here in the Delta quadrant, and we will honour that legacy.”  
  
I finish while I still can. “A memorial service will be arranged in due course. Chakotay out.”  
  
There’s absolute silence on the bridge when I cut the comm line. I look to my right, to her empty chair, and I can’t be there one second longer. I turn my head in the direction of the tactical station, where Tuvok has returned to duty. “You have the bridge. I’ll be –” My voice almost fails me. “I’ll be in the ready room.”  
  
=/\=  
  
Everything is just as she left it. The monitor on her desk, displaying the log entry she’d apparently been making just before the attack - no wonder she made it to the bridge so quickly; she’d already been up and working when the attack came at 0300. Yesterday’s slightly-wilted flowers on the low table by the couch. The empty coffee cup with its lipstick stain. Her perfume flavouring the air.  
  
I move to the upper level and stand at the viewport, as she always used to, staring out at unfamiliar stars.  
  
The door chimes and I call for entry; Kes comes in holding a medkit. “Tuvok called me up here to see to your hands,” she says in her gentle voice. Without a word I hold them out for the osteo-regenerator and she works carefully to mend the broken knuckles, closes the cuts, then switches to the sonic cleanser to remove the bloodstains. When they’re healed, she presses my fingers gently in her own and leads me to the couch.  
  
“Can I get you some tea?” she asks me.  
  
“I’m fine. Thank you.”  
  
My voice sounds normal. How is that possible? Nothing is ever going to be normal again.  
  
Kes sits there watching me quietly until I finally rouse myself. “Is there something I can do for you, Kes?”  
  
“I just wanted to tell you that you gave a fitting tribute to Captain Janeway. She was, as you said, a fine officer.”  
  
“A fine officer,” I repeat, blankly. Is that what I’d said? A _fine officer_?  
  
Kes watches me. “I’ll miss her,” she says, softly. She places her hand on my wrist and I stare at it without seeing it.  
  
“Neelix is organising the memorial for tomorrow night,” she says. “He was hoping you’d give the eulogy.” She waits for me to speak. When I don’t, she goes on, “Perhaps you could tell us more about the fine officer she was. I’m sure you know a great deal about her Starfleet career.” She pauses. “After all, she was your friend.”  
  
I can’t seem to see anymore; everything has blurred. My body is shuddering. Kes tightens her fingers on my wrist and suddenly I grab hold of her like I’m drowning, my face buried in her shoulder. Her gentle hands rub my back until the wracking sobs finally subside and I pull away, wiping my wet face on my sleeve. When she sees I’m back in control of myself she goes to the replicator and brings me back a cup of herbal tea.  
  
I sip in silence for awhile, then finally look at her and see her eyes are bright with tears as well. “What am I going to do?” I ask her.  
  
“You’re going to say goodbye,” she replies. “You’re going to mourn her, probably for a long time. And you’re going to get her crew home – get your crew home. You’re going to honour her by being the best captain you can be.”  
  
=/\=  
  
It’s nearly 0200 before I fall into bed. I’m exhausted, empty in body and soul. I’ve spent hours overseeing repairs - pushing B’Elanna to find a way to reinitialise the warp engines, Harry to analyse our readings of the alien shield harmonics, Tom to increase our scanning range to detect any sign of more of those ships. I’ve felt Tuvok watching me, felt his silent assessment. He thinks I’m not coping.  
  
I’m not stupid enough to think he’s wrong.  
  
It’s Tuvok who finally made me stop. I’d been leaning over Tom’s shoulder, urging him to refine the navigational sensors, when I heard his quiet voice. “Commander, Gamma shift has begun and Lieutenant Rollins is here to relieve you. Might I suggest that you, and the rest of Alpha shift, get some rest?”  
  
So here I am, alone in my bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think. Fortunately for me, fatigue takes over and in a matter of minutes, I’m asleep.


	2. Loop Two

**II. Loop Two**  
  
~The time is 0600. The time is 0600.~  
  
My eyes open slowly. They feel scratchy, and my head’s thick and pounding. I swivel out of the covers to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to orient myself. I’m on Voyager, in my quarters.  
  
 _Kathryn_.  
  
Oh, God.  
  
Kathryn is dead.  
  
My stomach lurches and I barely make it to the bathroom in time. When I’ve finished heaving, I sit back on my heels, wiping my mouth and shaking like I have a fever. I get up and brush my teeth, splash water on my face. I’m walking into the living area when I hear my door chime.  
  
“Come,” I call, hardly recognising my own voice. The doors slide open.  
  
Kathryn walks in.  
  
She’s smiling at me, saying something about dressing for breakfast but I can’t hear her. My vision has tunnelled and all I can do is stare. She stops short and her brow furrows. “Chakotay? Are you all right?”  
  
 _What the hell is going on_?  
  
In two strides I’m across the room and pulling her into my arms. I’m shaking all over, holding her so close I hear her squeak, but I can’t let go. I’m too busy making sure she’s real. I can hear my own breath coming in gasps and sobs, and I’m running my hands over her arms, her back. I feel her hands come up to my chest, gently pushing me away. With great effort I loosen my hold on her, but I don’t let her go.  
  
“Chakotay?” She sounds a little breathless.  
  
I can’t stop my hand coming up to her face, my fingers skimming over her cheekbone. Her eyes widen and I see her pupils dilate, her lips part a little.  
  
“You’re alive.” My voice is shaking as my thumb strokes her jawline. “How are you alive? You died on that shuttle … I tried to save you.”  
  
She stares. Her fingers curl a little against my chest, no longer pushing at me. “That was weeks ago, Chakotay.”  
  
“No, not the crash on the planet – the debris field. The aliens attacked us.” I swallow. “You died.”  
  
She’s shaking her head. Something is seriously wrong. “We were there together, on the Drake,” I insist. “You wanted to study the debris from the alien shielding.”  
  
“What debris?”  
  
“From the ship that attacked us. It exploded, and the temporal displacement caused disruptions in subspace …”  
  
And that’s when I figure it out.  
  
“What’s the date? The stardate?”  
  
“Stardate 50652,” she answers, concern deepening in her eyes. “Chakotay, what is it? What’s the matter?”  
  
“That was yesterday,” I tell her emphatically. It’s in that moment that I realise I’m still holding her and I force myself to let her go, stepping back. Her palms slide down my chest as I move and she visibly swallows, then straightens.  
  
“Explain, Commander.”  
  
Just as I open my mouth to do so, the ship shakes and we’re on red alert. Kathryn spins for the door and I follow, but just before we trigger the opening mechanism she stops short, so suddenly I almost skid right into her.  
  
“What?”  
  
She arches an eyebrow at me. “I admire your haste to get to the bridge, Commander. But perhaps you should put on your uniform first.”  
  
She’s already out the door by the time I look down and realise I’m only wearing the sweat pants I slept in.  
  
=/\=  
  
Tuvok beats me to the bridge this time. The ship is shuddering under another burst of weapons fire as I step off the turbolift and hurtle to my chair. On the viewscreen is the same alien vessel that attacked us yesterday. Or was it today? I shake it off; no time for temporal philosophy.  
  
Kathryn stands behind the helm, hands on hips. “Ensign Kim?”  
  
“Still no response to hails,” Harry reports.  
  
“You won’t get one,” I tell him, and Kathryn turns to face me, a question in her eyes. Instead of trying to explain, I address Tuvok. “Lieutenant, are you detecting a temporal displacement signature in their shield matrix?”  
  
He taps at his console and raises an eyebrow at me. “I am, Commander.”  
  
“Set the deflector to emit an inverse harmonic resonance pulse. Make sure it’s at minimal power or you’ll overload their shield grid and destroy them.”  
  
Tuvok glances at the captain. She shrugs. “Do it, Mr Tuvok.”  
  
We watch the screen as Tuvok reports that the pulse has neutralised the aliens’ shields.  
  
“They’re retreating,” Harry says.  
  
I start to relax and Kathryn begins, “Do you mind telling me –”  
  
But she’s cut off by Tom’s warning. “They’re coming about, Captain. Incoming fire!”  
  
It’s a direct hit on the bridge. Forward shields must have been severely weakened, because all hell breaks loose. There’s smoke everywhere, sparks shooting from computer panels, conduit hanging from the ceiling. But by the time I’ve dragged myself upright, the alien ship has gone.  
  
“Report,” Kathryn croaks from the floor beside the helm. I stagger over to help her up and she winces, pressing a hand to her side.  
  
I watch her while Tuvok and Harry provide a litany of damage. She’s pale, but she straightens under my scrutiny. “Organise repair teams and start continuous scans for any more of those ships. I’ll be in my ready room.” She indicates I should follow her.  
  
“You need to get to Sickbay,” I say, the moment the doors close behind us.  
  
“Later,” she brushes me off. “First I want you to tell me what you know about these aliens.”  
  
“Captain, you’re hurt –”  
  
“Now, Commander.”  
  
There’s no arguing with that tone. “Will you at least sit down?”  
  
She humours me enough to take a seat behind her desk, clasps her hands in front of her and waits.  
  
I ease into the chair opposite. “This isn’t the first time we’ve come across these aliens. At least, it isn’t to me.” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to work out how to explain – and how much to tell her.  
  
“We were called to the bridge at 0300. An attack was already underway and the aliens didn’t respond to hails. We sent a feedback pulse through the deflector grid and it overloaded their shields, causing a massive explosion. Somehow the temporal displacement in their shield harmonics created some kind of subspace effect, and temporal disruptions were spreading throughout the region.”  
  
Kathryn holds up a hand and goes to the replicator. “I have a feeling I’m going to need coffee for this.”  
  
I smile, waiting for her to take her first sip of coffee before I continue. I’ll never get tired of watching her in that small moment of pleasure.  
  
“I went to seal a hull breach on Deck Four, and I was hit by a tachyon-infused plasma bolt from the EPS panel I was working on. The Doctor said it caused my body to go out of temporal sync, but he claims he counteracted the effect with a chroniton serum. I don’t know if it was the tachyon surge or the chroniton serum, but the end effect seems to be that I’m living this day all over again.”  
  
“But with differences,” she points out. “We weren’t attacked early in the morning. We didn’t destroy that ship, and you haven’t been injured working on a hull breach.”  
  
“No.” I look away before my face tightens, but she sees it.  
  
“What else happened, Chakotay?” She reaches out and places a hand on my arm. “This morning in your quarters, you said –”  
  
“You died.” I face her. “We took a shuttle to investigate the debris of the ship we destroyed, and another of their vessels came and attacked us. You received plasma burns so severe that the Doctor couldn’t revive you.”  
  
She’s looking right into my eyes, and for a moment I can’t shore up my guard any longer and I let her see what that did to me. Tears of sympathy spring to her own eyes. “I’m sorry, Chakotay,” she says softly. “That must have been … difficult.”  
  
“Difficult,” I repeat, somewhat blankly. “Yes. You could say that.”  
  
She squeezes my hand a little, then lets go. “Tell me the rest.”  
  
“The rest? I went to bed that night, and when I woke up, it was the same stardate as the day before. And nobody seems to have noticed it but me.”  
  
Kathryn drums her fingertips on the desk, then taps her commbadge. “Janeway to Tuvok. Are you detecting any temporal distortions in the area?”  
  
~Yes, Captain,~ he replies after a moment. ~There appear to be minor temporal fluctuations throughout subspace in this region. May I ask how you knew?~  
  
“I’ll explain later, Tuvok. Call the senior staff to the briefing room in one hour. Janeway out.” She meets my gaze again. “Well, Commander, at least there’s a bright side. You knew how to disable that ship’s shields, which may have saved us from a much worse attack.” She smiles. “And I’m not dead.”  
  
I try to smile back at her; I do. But it’s all too fresh, too raw. And to be honest, no matter how much time passes, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to smile about the last twenty-four hours.  
  
It obviously makes her uncomfortable, seeing this much naked emotion on my face. She stands and says briskly, “We’d better get back to the bridge,” and heads for the door.  
  
=/\=  
  
“A temporal anomaly?” B’Elanna shrugs. “Well, why not? This is the Delta quadrant, after all.”  
  
Kathryn allows the small ripple of chuckles that follows, then holds up a hand. “Harry, I want you to work on mapping the temporal distortions. B’Elanna, keep trying to restore warp drive. Tuvok, you and Chakotay will analyse our readings from the alien shield configuration. Try to figure out how they’ve caused Chakotay to experience this temporal displacement and devise a way to stop it happening again. Tom, I want continuous sensor scans. Let me know the minute you pick up any sign of our friends returning.” She stands. “Let’s get to work. Dismissed.”  
  
I hang back as the others file out; nobody else appears to have noticed the way Kathryn grips the edge of the table, but I can see her slight pallor and the light prickling of perspiration at her hairline. “Are you all right?” I ask her quietly.  
  
She straightens and gives me her professional smile. “I’m fine, Commander.”  
  
I give her an even look. “Promise me you’ll have the Doc check you over.”  
  
She brushes past me, waving a hand in irritation. “I’ll get to it. For now, we have work to do, and I have no intention of being stuck in Sickbay listening to one of the Doctor’s pointless lectures if those aliens come back.”  
  
I follow her onto the bridge and move over to Tuvok’s station, where he’s already immersed in studying the sensor readings from the alien attack. He suggests we run a simulation of the explosion and the subsequent injury I sustained from the tachyon-infused plasma burst, so we head down to Holodeck Two and program in the parameters. I comm the Doctor and ask him to join us the holodeck; he might have some insights into why I’ve ended up jumping back in time.  
  
The Doc has a theory that his chroniton serum interacted with the tachyon surge and hyperstimulated my hippocampus, and insists I accompany him to Sickbay for further analysis. I jump up onto the biobed and Kes affixes a cortical monitor to the base of my skull while Tuvok watches the Doc runs his scans.  
  
“As I suspected, Commander,” he informs me proudly, “your neurotransmitters are in a state of temporal flux. My suspicion is that this is interacting with the temporal distortions in local subspace.”  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“It means that we are, indeed, experiencing a temporal paradox, and you appear to be the only one aware of it.”  
  
“What kind of paradox?” I ask.  
  
The Doc shrugs. “I’m a doctor, not a temporal theorist. I suggest you discuss it with the Captain. She seems to have an affinity for temporal mechanics.”  
  
I exchange a glance with Tuvok. “I’m not sure she’d agree. But thank you, Doc; I’ll speak with her about it. In the meantime, get working on a way to reverse the effects. Trust me when I tell you I’m not keen to be stuck in a repeating time loop for the foreseeable future.”  
  
I tap my commbadge on my way out of Sickbay, Tuvok at my heels. “Chakotay to Janeway.”  
  
~Janeway here.~ She sounds distracted.  
  
“The Doc has a theory I’d like to discuss with you.” I check my chrono; it’s almost 1500 hours. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”  
  
I hear her sigh over the commline. ~No, Commander, I haven’t, but I suppose you’re going to insist that I do so.~  
  
I grin at Tuvok. “Meet me in the mess hall and I’ll fill you in on what we’ve discovered over a delicious plate of Neelix’s finest.”  
  
~On my way,~ she grumbles. I’m still grinning when I cut the commline.  
  
=/\=  
  
Tuvok heads back to the bridge, claiming he doesn’t require nutrition at this time, and I pause to comm Harry and B’Elanna in Engineering for a quick update, then take the ‘lift to Deck Two. Kathryn is already at our usual table by the viewport when I arrive, her head bowed over a PADD, a plate of stew cooling beside her. I grab a plate from the galley, exchange a brief hello with Neelix while he fills it for me, and slide into the seat across from her.  
  
“Is it really that bad?”  
  
She raises her gaze to me. She looks pale, exhausted, and there are dark smudges like bruises under her eyes. “Sorry?”  
  
I gesture to her untouched plate of stew. It seems like a couple of seconds before she focuses on it.  
  
“Oh,” she says. “No. I don’t know.” I watch as her hand drops to her right side and she winces.  
  
“Kathryn?” I’m seriously concerned now. “Are you okay?”  
  
She just looks at me as if she hasn’t heard me. And then all the colour drains from her face and she pitches slowly sideways and crumples onto the deck.  
  
“Kathryn!” I’m at her side in an instant, feeling for her pulse; it’s sluggish and when I lift her eyelids, her pupils are unfixed. I gather her carefully in my arms. “Medical emergency. Two to transport directly to Sickbay. Now!”  
  
Sickbay is my worst nightmare all over again. The Doctor works feverishly over Kathryn’s biobed. Kes runs back and forth with instruments, calling out numbers that mean nothing to me, but I know from the Doc’s reaction that they’re not good. I can’t tear my eyes away from Kathryn, lying still and pale. And then she flatlines, and in spite of everything the Doctor tries to bring her back, eventually his shoulders drop and he steps back from the biobed. From the corner of my eye I see him glance my way.  
  
“Time of death, 1538 hours,” he says quietly.  
  
“No.” I’m shaking my head. “Try again.”  
  
“Commander…” He puts a hand on my arm. “The Captain had massive internal haemorrhaging from an untreated laceration to her liver caused by blunt force trauma. If she had presented for treatment even an hour earlier, I could have saved her, but it was too late. She’d lost too much blood. I’m sorry.”  
  
I walk out of Sickbay without looking back.  
  
=/\=  
  
I don’t remember getting here, but I’m back in my chair on the bridge. I haven’t spoken to anyone. The bridge activity goes on around me, normal, like any other day. I know I have to tell them, make an announcement, but right at this moment I’m so angry I can’t speak.  
  
God damn that woman and her stubbornness. Why didn’t she go to Sickbay right after she was injured, like anyone else would have? Why can’t she listen to reason? What makes her think being captain grants her immortality?  
  
How am I supposed to get through this again?  
  
“Commander.” I hadn’t even noticed Tuvok was standing beside me.  
  
My voice is rough. “What is it?”  
  
“If I could see you in private for a minute, sir.” He turns for the ready room without waiting to see if I’ll follow.  
  
Kes is in there already; she must have entered through the corridor. “I see you’ve informed Mr Tuvok of our status,” I address her.  
  
She looks at me with eyes brimming with sympathy. “The Doctor told him a few minutes ago.”  
  
“And you’re here for what reason?” I know Kes doesn’t deserve my anger, but I can’t help myself. In this moment, everybody should be hurting as much as I am.  
  
“To listen, if you want to talk,” she says quietly. “Tuvok has offered to inform the crew.”  
  
I’m suddenly livid. Does he really think I’d shirk this responsibility? “No. I’ll handle it.”  
  
I activate ship-wide. “This is Chakotay to all hands. I regret to inform you that Captain Janeway died a short while ago from an injury she sustained in this morning’s attack. I’m sure there are many of you who will find it difficult to accept this news. The senior officers will be available to you to address any concerns. A memorial service will be arranged shortly. Chakotay out.”  
  
Kes is staring at me in dismay when I finish, and even Tuvok looks disconcerted. They exchange a glance and Tuvok exits onto the bridge. Kes assesses me for a long moment, then moves to sit on the couch by the viewport. “Would you join me, Commander?”  
  
“It’s my fault, you know,” I tell her without moving, as though we’re continuing a conversation. “I knew she needed treatment. I should have made her go to Sickbay right after the attack.”  
  
“She could be very stubborn,” Kes says without inflection.  
  
“It was my job to make her take care of herself. Even when she didn’t want to listen to me.”  
  
“She made your job difficult.”  
  
“I should have known she needed help. She never would let me help her.”  
  
“You found that very frustrating.” Kes’ even voice still hasn’t changed.  
  
“You’re damn right,” I burst out, finally turning to look at her. “How do you protect someone who insists on recklessly throwing herself in the path of danger on a regular basis? Someone who won’t listen to reason?” My voice is rising. “I only ever wanted to keep her safe, but she fought me on it every time. She cut my balls off every single - fucking - _day_.” I crack on that last syllable and suddenly I’m trembling so hard I almost fall over.  
  
Kes is there in an instant, guiding me to the couch where I sit with my elbows on my knees and her hand on my shoulder. My eyes are dry, but I can’t stop shaking.  
  
“I can’t do this without her.”  
  
“You can, and you will,” she answers. “She had faith in you and so do we all. None of us will ever forget her and nobody can ever replace her, but I know you can get this crew back to …” She falters, her eyes searching mine, then says hesitantly, “Commander, I know it’s not possible, but I feel like we’ve had this conversation – or something like it – before.”  
  
That gets my attention. “Actually, Kes, we have. Just yesterday.”  
  
Her eyes widen. “The same thing happened in the previous timeline you experienced? Captain Janeway died?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “To go through it once is heartbreaking, but twice is beyond cruel.”  
  
“Yes, it is.” I straighten my shoulders. “Kes, tell me what else you remember about this conversation.”  
  
She shakes her head. “That’s all. I’m sorry.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not as though it changes anything.” I wipe a hand over my face and get to my feet, and Kes stands too. I feel shattered and I know it shows. “I need to get to the bridge.”  
  
“I understand,” she says. “Commander, I’d like to stop by your quarters and give you a mild sedative tonight. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”  
  
I nod acquiescence. At this moment, crawling into bed to sleep without dreaming sounds like all I want to do.  
  
I move through the next few hours as though I’m sleepwalking. I read reports and coordinate repair crews. Tom comes over to give me a sensor log analysis and when I glance at him as I hand back the PADD, I see that his eyes are bright with tears. I look away. B’Elanna comes to the bridge and stands before my chair until I can’t ignore her anymore, but when she crouches beside me and puts her hand on my arm, I shrug her off and tell her to get back to her station.  
  
After an eternity, Tuvok reminds me that Alpha shift has long since ended and we’re well into Beta. I hand the bridge to McKenzie and trudge back to my quarters, where I continue working until Kes arrives at 2200 to administer the sedative hypo, and within minutes I’m unconscious.


	3. Loop Three

**III. Loop Three**  
  
I wake an hour or so before my usual time. My head’s a little fuzzy and it takes a moment or two for reality to set in, but when it does I wish I hadn’t woken up at all.  
  
I drag myself to the bridge early, but instead of relieving Rollins, who has Gamma shift this week, I head directly to the ready room. I’m going to have to face that room sooner or later; it might as well be now.  
  
Kes brings the Captain fresh flowers from the airponics bay every morning; she hasn’t cleared away yesterday’s lilies yet and they droop a little in the vase on the coffee table. There’s a stack of PADDs on the desk. I pick up the first one. It’s Kathryn’s personal log. I key it off quickly. A coffee cup sits unrecycled in the replicator. I sit in her chair and pull the monitor toward me. At some point, I’ll have to record the official change of command. It might as well be now.  
  
I’m just activating the official log when the door slides open and I raise my head, annoyed at the unheralded intrusion, and then Kathryn enters and all the blood drains from my face.  
  
She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Mind telling me what you’re doing in my chair, Commander?”  
  
I must be gaping like a fish, because her expression changes immediately. “What’s wrong, Chakotay?”  
  
 _This cannot be happening_. “Computer,” I call shakily, “what’s the stardate?”  
  
~Stardate 50652.7.~  
  
Oh God, it _is_ happening. It’s yesterday all over again.  
  
“Chakotay?” There’s an edge to Kathryn’s voice now. I get up from her chair and take her by the hand, leading her over to the couch by the viewport.  
  
“You’d better sit down for this.”  
  
Predictably, she pulls away and puts her hands on her hips, her eyes steely. I sigh. “Well, _I_ need to sit down,” I mutter, collapsing onto the couch. I look down, trying to figure out how to explain this all over again, and feel her sit beside me.  
  
“I’m listening, Commander.”  
  
“Okay,” I begin. “Two days ago we were attacked by a species who never identified themselves. We blew up their ship. You and I went to examine the debris in a shuttle. Another of their ships attacked our shuttle and you were killed.”  
  
“Wait.” She holds up a hand. “Chakotay, what the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“Something in their shield harmonics emitted a temporal displacement signature. When the ship was destroyed it caused some kind of time disturbance in subspace. We’ve been stuck in a repeating time loop for two days now, and the only one who’s aware of it is me.”  
  
“Why you?”  
  
“Because of an injury I received during our first encounter with the aliens that put me into a state of temporal flux.” I pause. “At least, I assume it was our first encounter. I can’t actually be certain of that.”  
  
Kathryn sits back a little. I can see the workings of her mind in her eyes. “All right,” she says finally. “You said we’re in a repeating time loop. What happened in the second loop?”  
  
“We were attacked again, although the circumstances were different.” I don’t want to tell her the rest, but she knows I’m holding back. I can’t stop myself reaching for her hands again. “You died. Again.”  
  
She gives me an unreadable look. “Apparently, reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.” She tries to pull her hands away but I tighten mine a little; I can’t seem to lose the contact just yet.  
  
“Chakotay …” She looks uncomfortable.  
  
“Please.” My voice is low. “Kathryn, I’ve watched you die twice now. I need to know –” My breath catches a little. “I need to know you’re really here.”  
  
A couple of weeks ago she would have allowed this small contact without hesitation. A couple of weeks ago, we were friends. Now, she tugs a little harder and her hands slip from mine. She pats the back of my hand in a conciliatory gesture, but shifts away from me on the couch. “I’m here,” she assures me, but it’s clear she would rather be somewhere else. I hate myself for bringing us to this point.  
  
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.  
  
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Chakotay. It’s not as though it’s your fault I died in two other timelines.”  
  
“Actually, it is,” I mutter, “but that’s not what I was apologising for.”  
  
Kathryn understands, and I watch her spine stiffen. “As I said, Commander. You have nothing to be sorry for.”  
  
I want to make her talk to me about it. I want to explain why I did what I did, make her understand. But the steel in her eyes warns me not to push it further, so I let it drop.  
  
She stands, and I stand with her. “We need to brief the senior staff,” I tell her. “I don’t know what’s going to happen this time, but we need to be prepared.”  
  
=/\=  
  
The briefing is déjà vu all over again, only this time it’s Tom who makes a crack about weird being the Delta quadrant norm. I fill them in on the events of the past two days that they never experienced, although I leave what happened to Kathryn out of it. She gives me an assessing look but keeps silent.  
  
I know Tuvok, for one, is a little sceptical; the aliens haven’t appeared in this timeline and as far as he knows, I’ve hallucinated the whole thing. It’s only when we head back to the bridge and Tuvok confirms the presence of temporal distortions throughout subspace for several light years that I can see he accepts it.  
  
I relay the aliens’ warp signature and shield harmonics from memory, as much as I’m able, and Kathryn tells Harry to increase our regular scanning range and alert us the moment he detects any matching readings. Then she hands the conn to Tuvok and asks me to accompany her to Sickbay.  
  
“Your brain scan shows traces of chronitons and tachyons, as well as a temporal variance in your neurotransmitters,” the Doc tells me after we’ve explained my situation and he’s run his scans. “I’m also detecting increased acetycholine in your hippocampus, not to mention slightly elevated adrenaline levels. I’d speculate that you’ve been through a number of traumatic incidences recently.”  
  
I exchange a look with Kathryn. “Your speculation would be correct, Doctor.”  
  
“I assume you’d like to find a way to stop your time-travelling, Commander?”  
  
I don’t bother to answer that, and the Doc harrumphs. “Very well. I’ll analyse these scans and report back to you when I have some information of use.” He’s muttering something about being a doctor, not a miracle-worker, when Kathryn and I make our escape.  
  
In the turbolift, she watches me furtively and I pretend I don’t notice. The ‘lift opens on Deck One and she motions me into her ready room. She orders my herbal tea and her coffee from the replicator and moves up to stand by the viewport. I take my usual position slightly behind her left shoulder and gaze out onto the same stars she’s contemplating.  
  
Just as I start wondering if she wants me to break the silence, she says in a low voice, “I haven’t been fair to you, Chakotay.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
She interlaces the fingers of both hands around her cup as though holding onto it gives her strength. When she speaks again her voice is hesitant. “If I’ve given you the impression that you owe me some sort of … fidelity … beyond the parameters of friendship, that’s very wrong of me.”  
  
I open my mouth, realise I have no idea what to say, and close it again.  
  
“You’re my first officer,” she continues quietly. “You’re my closest friend. You have no obligation to me outside of those boundaries.”  
  
“You can’t change the way I feel, Kathryn.”  
  
I hear her draw a quick intake of breath, and when she answers there’s the slightest quiver in her voice. “I wish I could.”  
  
It cuts me like a knife. “Don’t worry. I’ll never mention it again.” I try to swallow around the rough ache in my throat. “I made you a promise that I’d try to lighten your burdens and I intend to keep it.”  
  
“You always have,” she says so softly I can barely hear her, and then she faces me, her eyes searching mine. “You aren’t the one at fault here. You aren’t the one who’s,” she pauses, “having difficulty with boundaries.”  
  
I’m staring at her, trying to figure out if she means what I think she does, trying to work out what she wants me to say. But before the meaning and the words can coalesce, Voyager lurches under our feet and we’re both thrown to the deck.  
  
Kathryn scrambles to the ready room door and flings herself onto the bridge just as another blast hits us. “Report!”  
  
“An alien ship dropped out of warp on our port side and started firing,” Harry yells. “Shields and warp drive are down.”  
  
“Hail them.”  
  
I drop into my seat next to Kathryn. That same ship looms on the viewscreen, and I feel my gut clench.  
  
“They’re responding,” Harry says, and I jerk my head towards him in surprise, then back to the screen.  
  
Kathryn gives her standard greeting, then demands, “Why have you fired on us?”  
  
The alien onscreen is huge, with mottled yellow-brown skin, scaled like a reptile’s. ~You have violated Draelath space,~ he responds. ~Outsiders are not tolerated.~  
  
“Wait,” Kathryn says quickly. “We meant no intrusion. We’re unfamiliar with this region of space. We’ll leave immed-“  
  
The alien doesn’t even let her finish her sentence. I see him jerk his monstrous head at someone offscreen, and we’re pummelled with weapons fire. Something happens, a chain reaction in the EPS relays on the bridge, I don’t know. An arc of energy snaps out of the console between the command chairs. It feels like I’m watching in slow motion as it slams into Kathryn’s chest.  
  
For a moment she’s boosted half out of her chair, her back arched, the tendons in her neck rigid, her fingers curled. Then as quickly as it started, the energy burns itself out and she slumps back into her chair, boneless, her head lolling to one side.  
  
I know before the scream has even left my throat that she’s dead.  
  
=/\=  
  
The Draelath, true to type, turn tail and flee after wreaking their destruction. I bellow at Tom to follow them, but warp drive is offline. We’ve lost phasers, life support is gone on two decks and structural integrity is down to seventy-three percent, but the only casualty of the attack is Kathryn.  
  
She’s transported to Sickbay the moment the Draelath depart, and ten minutes later the Doctor comms the bridge to confirm her death. He sends Kes to tend to the minor wounds many of the bridge crew have sustained. She runs a regenerator over the burns on my hands and asks me questions I barely acknowledge. I’m too busy organising Tuvok to restore phasers, Harry to work on shields, B’Elanna to repair the warp drive. If the Draelath return I have every intention of blowing the bastards out of the sky.  
  
Kes asks me to come to the ready room when she’s finished healing the cuts and bruises on the bridge. As soon as the door closes behind, us I tell her, “I already know what you’re going to say.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“You’re going to tell me I have a responsibility to the crew, and that Kathryn would have wanted me to get them home.”  
  
“Oh.” She blinks. “Well, actually, I was going to ask if you’re all right.”  
  
“All right,” I repeat. I sit on the couch, my gaze fixing on the vase of lilies on the table. “You didn’t bring fresh flowers this morning.”  
  
A flash of bewilderment crosses Kes’ normally serene face. “It was the strangest thing, Commander. I went to the airponics bay to get the Captain’s flowers, but when I walked in I thought for a moment that there was a section of the bulkhead open to space. I could see the forcefield shimmering. But when I blinked, it was gone. It was so strange that I just left without the flowers.”  
  
I stare at her. “In the first loop I experienced, there was a hull breach in the airponics bay. It’s the reason I was injured – I went to seal it and there was an accident with an EPS conduit.” I lean toward her. “In the last loop, you remembered something you’d said to me in the previous one. Have you had any other strange experiences today? Déjà vu, other visions?”  
  
She bites her lip. “I knew the Captain was dead before the call came into Sickbay.”  
  
This isn’t the first time Kes has demonstrated awareness beyond the usual, and over the past year or so her telepathy seems to have developed even more. I already have the crew working on a scientific explanation for my time-travelling, but I’ve always been one to look for less tangible answers as well.  
  
“You’ve been working with Tuvok on controlling your psychic abilities. If you’re sensing events that happened in other time loops, maybe you can figure out how we got stuck in one and whether we’re out of it. Would you be willing to give it a try?”  
  
“I’ll start right away,” Kes assures me, then gives me a look that tells me she’s quite aware I’m in denial. “Commander, there’s something you need to do, too, and it’s only going to get harder the longer you wait.”  
  
She rests her hand on mine for a moment, and when she’s gone, I make – for the third time – the announcement I never wanted to make.  
  
=/\=  
  
Tuvok comms me a couple of hours later and I make my way to Kes’ quarters. Kes looks tired and a little pale.  
  
“Kes has described a number of events that, to my knowledge, have not occurred,” Tuvok explains. “We wished to discuss them with you to determine whether they occurred in previous time loops.”  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
“I saw you and Captain Janeway on a shuttle,” Kes begins. “You were talking about ways to protect the bioneural gel packs from virological attacks, and then your shuttle was fired upon.”  
  
“That happened in the first loop,” I confirm.  
  
“The next thing I saw was you telling the Captain she needed to go to Sickbay.”  
  
I raise my eyebrows. “Trust me when I tell you, that could have been almost any day.”  
  
“She was holding her hand to her right side, like this,” Kes demonstrates.  
  
Any small amusement I might have felt dissipates. “In yesterday’s loop, the Captain died from blood loss. Her liver was damaged in the alien attack. I’m guessing that’s the day you saw.”  
  
Kes flicks a glance at Tuvok. “There was one other event I saw.” She shifts uncomfortably.  
  
“Go on,” I encourage her.  
  
“I saw you and the Captain in her quarters. You were kissing her.”  
  
I stare at her. “I can assure you with complete certainty, Kes, _that_ has never happened.”  
  
“I can’t explain it then, Commander. I saw it as clearly as the other two events.”  
  
“It’s not something I’d have forgotten,” I mutter. “Did you see anything else? Any indication that we’ve escaped the temporal loop?”  
  
“I don’t think so. I’m sorry, Commander.”  
  
“It’s all right. Take some time to rest, then if you feel up to it, continue trying. Keep me informed.”  
  
She nods, and Tuvok leaves her quarters with me. We head for the turbolift, but when he hears me call for Deck One, he says, “Commander, it’s late and you appear fatigued. I suggest you also get some rest.”  
  
He’s right; I’m barely keeping my feet and I feel like I could sleep for a week, but I shake my head. “Too much to do.”  
  
“There will still be plenty to do tomorrow,” he replies. “And the crew will not benefit from an exhausted captain.”  
  
It’s the word _captain_ that almost does me in. That’s what I am now. I turn away from Tuvok so he can’t see the emotion on my face. When I’ve regained control of myself, I nod. “All right, Lieutenant, you win. I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
I enter my darkened quarters, pull off my boots, and slump face-down onto my bed without bothering to undress further, and almost instantly I’m asleep.


	4. Loop Four

**IV. Loop Four**  
  
~The time is 0600. The time is 0600.~  
  
I drag myself out of unconsciousness. My neck complains when I try to lift my head; apparently I haven’t moved all night. I can feel creases from the bedspread on the side of my face, and I smell less than lovely.  
  
I take a hot-water shower, holding my head under the spray in an attempt to soothe my aching shoulders, drag on a fresh uniform and trudge to the mess hall. Neelix is as cheerful as ever and I almost snarl at him – what right does anybody have to be cheerful today? – but restrain myself just in time. It’s only when Tom and Harry come in laughing and sit at my table needling each other about Harry’s latest dating attempt, as though it’s just another day, that I begin to understand.  
  
Heart pounding, I tap my commbadge. “Chakotay to Janeway.”  
  
~Janeway here,~ comes the immediate response. ~Forget something this morning, Commander?~  
  
“Captain?”  
  
Tom looks up at the tone in my voice and I have to avert my eyes.  
  
~We had a breakfast date. You stood me up,~ she chides.  
  
“I’m sorry, Captain. I’ll buy you a coffee to make up for it.”  
  
~Be sure you do.~ I can hear the smile in her voice. ~See you on the bridge. Janeway out.~  
  
I’m grinning like a fool, and Tom raises an eyebrow at me. “Chakotay? You okay?”  
  
I collect my tray and get up to take it to the recycler. “It’s going to be a good day, Paris.” To his surprise – because, let’s face it, he and I aren’t the greatest at seeing eye to eye – I give him a friendly cuff on the shoulder as I pass. “Don’t think that means I’ll go easy on you, though.”  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he calls as the mess hall doors swish shut behind me.  
  
I take the ‘lift down to Deck Four first; I want to stop by the airponics bay before I see Kathryn. I bypass the bridge and head straight for the ready room, holding the bunch of Aldebaran daisies Kes suggested. “Come,” Kathryn calls when I ring for entry.  
  
She sees the flowers and her face stiffens. “Chakotay –” She puts a hand up to her head. “They’re lovely, but …”  
  
“But what?”  
  
“This isn’t appropriate,” she says quietly.  
  
 _Ouch_. “It’s just flowers, Kathryn. You have them delivered fresh every morning; I thought I’d save Kes the trouble.”  
  
She presses her lips together; I can see she wants to say more, but I turn away and go to the replicator to order her coffee. “Don’t worry, I used my rations,” I joke. She accepts the cup with that tight smile I’ve been seeing for the past two weeks. What I wouldn’t give to see the open, radiant smile she used to give me.  
  
She sits on the couch and I follow her with my cup of tea. “Before you say anything,” I start, “there’s something I need to tell you.”  
  
“Chakotay…” She sighs, placing her cup carefully on the low table. “If this is about –”  
  
“We’re going to be attacked,” I interrupt her bluntly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Sometime today, probably very soon, if the pattern holds. They’re called the Draelath, and they like to shoot first and threaten later.”  
  
I have her full attention now. “Explain.”  
  
I give her a recap of the past three loops. I’m not sure why, but I leave out the part about her dying in each of them; maybe because I know I can’t talk about it without getting emotional, and right now it’s clear she’s not in the mood for that kind of conversation. She listens to my story, asks a few questions about subspace scans and tachyon readings, then leads me back to the bridge. “Tuvok,” she orders, “start scanning for alien vessels. Raise shields and ready weapons.”  
  
“Captain?”  
  
“If what Chakotay has just told me is correct, we can expect to make a new acquaintance shortly. And not the friendly kind.”  
  
Less than five minutes later, Tuvok’s console lights up. “Captain, I’m detecting a vessel on fast approach. It matches the warp signature Commander Chakotay supplied and its weapons are powered.”  
  
Kathryn grips the arms of her chair. “Hail them.” She glances at me. “Well, Commander, I can’t say I’m happy you were right.”  
  
“Neither am I,” I mutter. I’m already sweating, my stomach in knots.  
  
“They’re responding,” Harry reports.  
  
“On screen.”  
  
The huge reptilian appears on the viewscreen. Kathryn rises from her chair. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. We mean you no harm.”  
  
~Your ship stands ready to attack,~ the alien responds. ~As does mine. Leave our space and we may not destroy you.~  
  
“I apologise if we’ve intruded on your borders. We’re unfamiliar with this region of space. Perhaps we could negotiate passage?” She pauses. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”  
  
To my surprise, because I’d expected the Draelath to be shooting at us by now, the alien cocks his head to one side. ~Negotiation is not our way, Voyager.~  
  
Kathryn seizes the opening. “Perhaps we could discuss a possible trade agreement. May I ask whom I have the honour of addressing?”  
  
~I am Festan of the Draelath.~ The alien stares at Kathryn and my gut clenches. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, and I don’t understand why the Draelath have decided on conversation instead of combat.  
  
“May we meet face to face, Festan?”  
  
~Outsiders may not board this ship.~  
  
“You’d be welcome to visit Voyager. We have technology that allows us to instantly transport you to our location.”  
  
Festan’s stare hardens. ~And then I would be at your mercy. No. We will see to our own transport arrangements. Expect us in three hours.~  
  
The screen blinks off.  
  
“Captain,” I say urgently. “You can’t trust these people.”  
  
Kathryn turns to me, her eyes questioning. “It’s not like you to form a negative opinion so quickly, Chakotay.”  
  
“It’s an opinion based on experience.”  
  
“You said they hadn’t opened communications in previous loops. Maybe this time, things will be different.” She glances around the bridge. “I want all senior staff to the briefing room immediately.”  
  
As we’re filing into the briefing room, Kes comes rushing in behind B’Elanna. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she says a little breathlessly. “I know this isn’t the kind of meeting I’d normally attend, but I think I need to be here.”  
  
Kathryn starts to ask for an explanation, but I forestall her. “She’s right, Captain.”  
  
She gives me an even look. “I think you’d better fill everyone in, Commander.”  
  
I give them the same brief outline I gave Kathryn in her ready room, then add, “So far each loop has been different from the last, but there are certain events that have occurred in every one of them. The Draelath attack us, Kes demonstrates some level of awareness of the temporal repetition, and the Captain is killed.”  
  
I feel Kathryn jerk a little beside me. “You neglected to mention that part earlier, Commander.”  
  
I wisely keep silent.  
  
She continues, “And the Draelath haven’t attacked us this time. Perhaps we can avoid a conflict today.”  
  
“I hope so,” I mutter. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”  
  
Kathryn gives me another long look, then turns to Tuvok. “Make the necessary arrangements to meet our guests in the shuttlebay and bring them to the briefing room when they arrive. Harry, I want full sensor scans of that ship. Tom, keep scanning for other Draelath vessels. Chakotay, I’d like to see you in my ready room.”  
  
=/\=  
  
She keeps her back to me as she orders another coffee from the replicator and takes her favourite spot before the viewport. She doesn’t offer me a drink. I move up beside her, but something warns me not to stand too close.  
  
Finally she turns, placing her cup carefully on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me I died?”  
  
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.”  
  
“You didn’t think I could handle it?”  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
She’s not ready to give it up. “Then what, Chakotay?”  
  
Her chin is up, her eyes flashing, and I realise she doesn’t want answers. What she really wants is a fight, and I’m too heartsore to deal with this right now. I rub the back of my neck where there’s a dull headache forming. She’s still waiting, so I sigh, unable to keep the weariness from my voice when I answer. “I didn’t think you needed to know.”  
  
I watch her mentally running through and discarding any number of possible responses to that. She settles on, “Is there anything else you’ve decided I don’t need to know?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“How can I be sure of that?”  
  
“Because I can’t lie to you.” It comes out more abruptly than I intend, and I realise even as I’m saying the words that they’re not true. A lie of omission is still a lie.  
  
From the look in her eyes, I can tell she’s thinking the same thing. I find myself studying my feet. When I glance up at her again, the fight has gone out of her and she looks as drained as I feel. It gives me hope, in a strange way; hope that maybe she hates this wall that’s grown between us as much as I do.  
  
“I made a mistake, Kathryn, and I’m sorry,” I tell her. This isn’t about today anymore; it’s about what happened two weeks ago. It’s about the thing I did that hurt her, a hurt she can’t bring herself to acknowledge. “I don’t want to fight with you. I want my friend back.”  
  
She stiffens at that. “Of course we’re friends, Chakotay.” But her voice is cool, polite.  
  
I have three years’ worth of practice at holding an iron grip on my emotions, but I’m hanging by a thread right now and my usual control is in pieces. I do the worst thing possible: I laugh.  
  
It’s not a genuine laugh; it’s short and it’s bitter and I regret it the instant it leaves my throat. I can practically see the titanium stiffening her spine. Ice drips from her voice when she says, “Is there something else you want to say to me, Commander?”  
  
And I’m suddenly so tired of it all that I can’t stop myself. “Yes, Captain, there is. But since you’ve already made it abundantly clear that you have no intention of hearing it, you’ll forgive me if I prefer not to waste my breath.”  
  
For a brief moment she looks like I’ve slapped her, and then her face shuts down. “Then this conversation is over,” she says tightly. “Dismissed.”  
  
I pivot on my heel and stride out of her ready room. Just before the door slides closed behind me, I glance back. She’s staring out the window again, her back to the door and her arms wound around her body as though she’s holding herself together.  
  
=/\=  
  
At precisely the agreed time, the Draelath shuttle docks in Shuttlebay One and Tuvok and three of his security officers escort the four Draelath representatives to the briefing room. Kathryn stands at the head of the conference table, command mask in place, and offers her hand in greeting. Festan doesn’t bother to introduce his crewmates.  
  
Kathryn motions to the chairs, and our visitors sit. I take my usual seat to Kathryn’s right; Tuvok stands at her left and Ayala remains stationed motionless behind the Draelath. Foster and Jarvin, I know, have taken up positions outside the briefing room doors.  
  
“Thank you for agreeing to talk with us,” Kathryn begins. “I was hoping you’d allow us to travel through your space. We have no hostile intentions; we’re just trying to get home.”  
  
“What is your ship’s weaponry complement?” Festan fires back immediately. “What are your technological capabilities? Where are the rest of your military forces?”  
  
Kathryn blinks. “I assure you, Festan, we are not the vanguard of some invasion force. We belong to a federation of planets situated on the other side of the galaxy. We are in this quadrant by accident, and to my knowledge there are no other Federation ships anywhere near this region.”  
  
“And why should we trust you?”  
  
“What reason would we have to deceive you?”  
  
Festan snorts. “You are outsiders,” he says, as though that’s reason enough.  
  
Kathryn tries a different tack. “Is there something we can offer you in return for allowing us passage through your territory? Perhaps you’d be interested in the astrometric data we’ve gathered in our travels? Or we may have some minerals or other resources of interest to you.”  
  
“We do not allow outsiders to traverse our territory,” Festan says flatly. He stands, and his silent entourage stands with him. “This meeting is over. Escort us to our shuttle and leave our space immediately.”  
  
Kathryn looks like she wants to press him for a moment, but then sighs and stands up. “As you wish. I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an agreement.”  
  
Festan gives her a short nod and jerks his head to his men. Before they reach the door, Kathryn adds, “Festan, one question. Have your ship’s sensors detected any temporal anomalies in the region?”  
  
Festan’s head whips around and his men stop short. And then everything happens so fast it’s impossible to remember later exactly how it went down – and believe me, I try. I replay that moment over and over in my head for hours.  
  
His scaly hand grabs Kathryn around her throat – her pale, slender throat – and before her eyes can even widen, he snaps her neck like a dandelion stalk. For a moment he holds her still, her head at an impossible angle, and then he lets her drop and she slumps into my arms.  
  
I hear shouts and phaser fire and running footsteps and the sound of flesh on flesh, and within moments three of the Draelath are dead on the floor, the fourth held at the point of Tuvok’s phaser. But all I can feel is Kathryn’s limp body in my arms, all I can see is the mark of alien fingers on her broken neck and the faint surprise in her beautiful, lifeless eyes.  
  
=/\=  
  
Am I destined to watch the woman I love die, over and over again? Is this some kind of punishment for all the wrong things I’ve done in my life?  
  
Or is this some kind of test I’m failing, and failing to understand?  
  
It’s no surprise that it’s Kes who comes to my quarters that night, after we’ve transported the sole surviving Draelath and his three dead comrades back to their ship, after we’ve exchanged fire and both come away battered, after I’ve stood dry-eyed and frozen in the Doctor’s office waiting for him to finish his autopsy so I can witness Kathryn’s death certificate. It’s Kes who brings me my medicine bundle and gently lays my hands on it. She tells me that she doesn’t have the answers, but maybe I do.   
  
But when I open the eyes inside my mind, expecting to stand in the forest and see my spirit guide waiting for me with her smiling eyes, it’s clear I’ll find no answers here. I’m standing in the dust of my levelled and desolate homeworld, the ashes of my people clinging to my boots, and the only sound is the soft shifting of dead soil in the faint, sour wind.  
  
I bring myself out of it and close my medicine bundle. I pour a finger of scotch into a glass, then tip it back into the bottle and swig straight from the neck instead.  
  
I never told Kathryn that I’d slept with Riley. I didn’t have to. The way she looked at me after Riley made her case to reactivate the Borg neural link, I knew she’d figured it out the minute we walked into the briefing room. Just as I knew she would never let me confess, never let me explain, and certainly never let me apologise.  
  
And she’d never admit that I’d hurt her, because she couldn’t acknowledge that she felt anything for me, that she had any kind of claim on me. As if her silence could cancel out the fact that she’s held claim to me right from the beginning.  
  
I hate that I did it. Oh, it can be justified a thousand ways. It was the neural link. I was injured and my defences were down. Kathryn would say that I’m free to be with whomever I want, and I never took a vow of celibacy. And all of those reasons are true, but they’re not the whole truth. The truth is that I needed it. I hate what I did, but what I regret more than anything is never telling her why.  
  
I drink until the bottle is close to empty and gravity forces my body to the carpet. I don’t know if tomorrow I’ll wake up to a world where Kathryn is dead, or a world where I’ll have to watch her die. I don’t know which is worse. But if tomorrow brings today all over again, I can’t let it end that way again.  
  
In the last moments before unconsciousness claims me, I realise what it is I have to do.  
  
I have to save her.


	5. Loop Five

**V. Loop Five**  
  
It’s the pounding in my head that wakes me. My mouth feels desiccated and my eyes full of grit. With an effort, I roll to my hands and knees and have to swallow thickly against the rising nausea in my throat before I can stagger upright.  
  
I call for lights and stumble to the bathroom, staring into the mirror. I look like shit. Sonic waves aren’t going to help the circles under my eyes, so I call for a hot-water shower. By the time I’m dressed it’s almost 0600. “Computer,” I ask, “what’s the stardate?”  
  
~Stardate 50652.7,~ the computer replies dispassionately. I close my eyes briefly, then  square my shoulders, take a steadying breath and head for Kathryn’s quarters.  
  
I hear her call, “Come,” and I feel like crying.  
  
She’s immaculately dressed, hair pulled back in the ponytail she’s recently taken to wearing. “You’re early,” she says, smiling at me automatically; then she really looks at me and a crease appears between her eyebrows. “Looks like you need coffee as much as I do this morning. Didn’t you sleep well, Chakotay?”  
  
“Not really,” I mumble, but don’t elaborate.  
  
She waves me to the table and goes to the replicator, returning with a pot of coffee and a plate of toast. I watch her surreptitiously as she wraps her hands around her cup and inhales the scent, eyes closed, before taking her first reverent sip. She opens her eyes, catches me watching her and colours a little, picking up a PADD to distract herself. “What did you think of B’Elanna’s latest suggestions for increasing warp drive efficiency?” she asks.  
  
I reach out and take the PADD from her hand, placing it face down on the table. “Kathryn.”  
  
She looks up.  
  
“I don’t want to talk about ship’s systems.”  
  
She opens her mouth to question me, and the ship shakes.   
  
~Captain to the bridge.~  
  
Shit. Already?  
  
We scramble into the turbolift as Voyager shudders again. Rollins is clearly relieved when he sees us rush out onto the bridge. “Captain,” he addresses her. “An alien ship is holding position two million kilometres to starboard. They’ve attacked us without provocation and aren’t responding to hails.”  
  
I head immediately to the tactical station and Ayala steps back to let me at the controls. “I’m sending out a resonance pulse inverse to their shield harmonics.”  
  
“Commander?” Kathryn raises an eyebrow at me.  
  
“Trust me,” I answer, and nod toward the screen.  
  
“Their shields are down,” Harry notes from Ops. “They’ve stopped firing. They’re hailing us.”  
  
“Don’t answer yet,” I interrupt, striding down to the command level. “Captain, these aliens are called the Draelath. They’re a highly territorial and xenophobic species. You can’t trust anything they say.”  
  
She’s silent for a moment. “I expect a full explanation shortly, Commander,” she says quietly, then nods at Harry.  
  
“Channel open,” he says.  
  
Festan appears on the viewscreen and I swallow down my hatred with difficulty. Kathryn rises from her chair. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway. Why have you fired on us?”  
  
~Outsiders are not permitted in our space,~ he replies predictably. ~Your violation of our borders will not be tolerated.~  
  
“Okay, that part you can trust,” I mutter. Kathryn flashes me a quelling glance and turns back to the screen.  
  
“We had no intention of trespassing on your borders. We’re unfamiliar with this region and are simply passing through.” She pauses, then adds, “And, as you can see, we are quite capable of defending ourselves.”  
  
~Is that a threat?~ Festan draws himself up.  
  
“Not at all. May I ask whom I’m addressing?”  
  
~I am Festan of the Draelath.~  
  
“Festan, we have no hostile intentions. Perhaps we could meet in person to discuss passage through your space?”  
  
After a pause, Festan inclines his head. ~You may transport to my vessel in three hours.~  
  
I can’t help shifting in my seat. They’re letting us board their ship?  
  
~We have strict protocols for contact,~ Festan continues. ~You may bring one unarmed escort. I will transmit further instructions. Study them carefully. Any deviation will result in your destruction.~  
  
“I look forward to meeting you,” Kathryn answers calmly. “Janeway out.”  
  
The instant the channel is closed I’m standing. “Captain, you can’t go to their ship.”  
  
She holds up a hand, already moving toward the conference room. “Save it for the briefing, Chakotay. Senior officers, with me. Now.”  
  
=/\=  
  
The minute we’re all seated around the table, Kathryn nods at me. “Time for that explanation, Commander.”  
  
I relate our first encounter with the Draelath, the attack that created the temporal distortions, the time-looping and my own awareness of it, the evolution of the Draelath’s interactions with Voyager. I don’t make the mistake this time of omitting what happens to Kathryn.  
  
She listens carefully, and when I’m finished she asks, “Why do you think they’ve decided to allow us on board their ship this time?”  
  
“I don’t know,” I say honestly, “but I doubt their intentions are benign.”  
  
Kathryn turns to Harry. “Did you detect any other Draelath ships in the region?”  
  
“No, Captain. But their space appears to be pretty big. Going around it would add about six months to our travel time.”  
  
“Then I think we have to take the risk that we can negotiate safe passage. Tuvok, you’ll accompany me to the Draelath ship. Dismissed.”  
  
Ensign Lang, covering for Harry at Ops, hands Kathryn a PADD when she steps back onto the bridge. “I’ve downloaded the information the Draelath sent over for you, Captain.”  
  
Kathryn glances at it. “I’ll study this in my ready room. Chakotay, you have the bridge. Tuvok, with me.”  
  
They’re in there for half an hour, and then Tuvok returns to his station and Kathryn comms me to let me know she’ll be in her quarters. I head up to Tactical. “A word, Lieutenant?”  
  
We go to the briefing room, leaving Tom in command. “I need you to brief me on the Draelath’s instructions,” I tell Tuvok.  
  
“Captain Janeway and I are to take a shuttle to the Draelath vessel at 0930 hours. We are required to appear in dress uniform and follow a strict series of contact protocols. The Draelath have been clear that any divergence from these instructions will result in hostilities.”  
  
I hold my hand out for the PADD, and Tuvok gives it to me. I scan it, picking out key phrases. _Outsiders will speak only when directly addressed … maintain a kneeling position … no direct eye contact … submit to a comprehensive search of their person_. I clench my jaw. “They can’t be serious.”  
  
Tuvok says nothing.  
  
“And the Captain plans to agree to these conditions?”  
  
“She does.”  
  
I slap the PADD onto the table. “Return to the bridge, Tuvok. I’ll be with the Captain.”  
  
I’m still shaking with fury when I punch at the entry pad outside Kathryn’s quarters. The door slides open and I stride in, ready to do battle. I stop short when I realise her quarters are darkened. She’s curled up on the couch gazing at the stars through the viewport, the PADD with its offending demands on the low table beside her. Her feet are bare, her jacket and turtleneck gone. My anger dims a little.  
  
“Kathryn?”  
  
She turns her face to me and sighs. “I suppose you’ve read this.” She gestures to the PADD.  
  
“Yes.” The anger starts rising again. “Tuvok says you intend to go through with it.”  
  
“I don’t seem to have much choice.”  
  
I step towards her. “Yes, you do. Don’t go.”  
  
“Chakotay …”  
  
“Kathryn, they want to strip-search you. They want you to _kneel_ , for God’s sake.”  
  
She unwinds herself from the couch and stands to face me. “If that’s the price of diplomacy, I’ll put up with it.”  
  
“This isn’t diplomacy! It’s … it’s a power play. It’s _insulting_.”  
  
“I’ve been insulted before,” she shrugs, and moves toward her bedroom. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to change.”  
  
“You don’t have to do this.” I follow her, ignoring her dismissal. “Let me go instead.”  
  
She turns just before her bedroom door, frowning at me. “You know I can’t do that. They’ve insisted on negotiating with the captain of this ship.”  
  
“Then let me come with you.”  
  
Kathryn arches an eyebrow. “You don’t trust Tuvok to protect me?”  
  
“In this case, no,” I tell her bluntly. “I’m the one with experience dealing with these people. I think that gives me a tactical advantage here.”  
  
“You also have an obvious prejudice against them. I need someone with me who’ll keep a clear head.”  
  
She crosses her arms and glares up at me. Her head is tilted back to meet my gaze; she’s so much smaller without her uniform boots. It only makes her fragility more evident, and I’m determined to protect her. I can’t help myself; I reach out and take hold of her arms just above the elbow. “Can you really blame me for not trusting them, Kathryn? They’ve killed you in four timelines now.”  
  
“This time will be different.”  
  
“You’ll be unarmed and at their mercy. And believe me when I tell you that they don’t have any.”  
  
“I’ve been in worse situations and come out unharmed, but the chances of that are much less if you’re with me and at red alert.”  
  
I try to soften my voice, knowing she’ll respond better to that than my anger. “You’re right; I am having trouble being clear-headed about this. But I have good reason for it.” I can’t seem to let go of her, and I realise abstractedly that my thumbs are stroking the insides of her bare arms. She shivers a little and some of the indignation leaches from her eyes. “Can you blame me for not wanting to watch you die all over again?”  
  
Kathryn lifts her chin a little. “I have no intention of dying today, Chakotay.” She lets the corner of her mouth quirk up. “And if I do, at least you won’t be there to watch it.”  
  
I stare at her. “You think this is a fucking _joke_?” Before I realise it, I’ve backed her up against the bulkhead, pressing her into it with my body. Her eyes go wide as I bend close and hiss at her, “You think it’s funny that I’ve woken for the past four mornings thinking you’re _dead_? Do you have any idea what that’s doing to me?”  
  
And then it happens. Her gaze darts to my mouth and back up to my eyes; her own lips part a little and I hear her catch her breath, and, thinking she’s about to speak, to argue with me, I give into impulse and silence her with my lips on hers.  
  
I feel her flinch a little, her hands coming up to my chest, and I know she’s about to push me away. But I’m here now and I’m not backing off, and she won’t remember this tomorrow anyway, if she’s even here tomorrow. So I slide one arm around her waist to pull her close and the other cradles her head, tilting her face up to me. I soften the pressure of my mouth, licking at her bottom lip, and I feel the moment she stops fighting herself and starts kissing me back. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat and sucks my tongue into her mouth, curving her hips into me, her hands sliding up to grip the back of my neck.  
  
There’s a moment when my better self tells me to stop. But then she curls her fingers into my hair and I feel her rise on her toes, pressing closer, and my better self dissolves like smoke. I pull my mouth from hers and latch onto her neck, hearing her moan as I suck at her pale skin. My right hand works at the fastening of her pants, pushing them down; my left is under her tank, fingers curled around her breast, thumb rubbing across her nipple. I shove her panties over her hips and she spreads her thighs for me, gasping as I brush my fingers against her. She’s swollen, slick; I dip my finger into her, stroke my thumb over her clitoris and feel her tremble. My teeth fasten on her collarbone as I slide two fingers inside her and her knees buckle. Her breath is shuddering in my ear, her fingers wound tightly into my hair, her hips moving as I stroke her.  
  
God, I want her so much.  
  
I pull my hand out from under her tank and unfasten my own pants one-handed, then slide my hands under her thighs and lift her, pressing her back against the bulkhead for support. She winds her legs around my hips. One arm clutches my shoulders and her other hand snakes down between our bodies and takes hold of my cock, guiding the head into her. I can feel I’m stretching her and she winces a little, resting her forehead against mine to catch her breath, and then she twists her hips and I slide slow and deep inside her. By the time I’m fully sheathed in her she’s moaning, her back arched, clutching my head to her breasts.  
  
She’s so tight, so hot, so slick, and she’s Kathryn, and I’ve wanted her for so long. I want so much for this to last so I can savour every moment, make her body sing with drawn-out pleasure. But then she tightens her inner muscles around me and it almost makes me come right there. It’s close to impossible but I manage to hold myself in check and draw out of her almost as slowly as I first slid in. I can feel her inner walls grasping at me, hear her small whimper of loss, and then I thrust back into all that soft heat and we’re both groaning, gasping. I move one hand under her bottom to hold her up and squirm the other between us, touching her where we’re joined. My thumb strokes her nub and she bites down on my shoulder, muffling a cry as she jerks and trembles against me. I didn’t realise she was so close. I circle my thumb against her as I stroke into her, harder and faster, and then I feel her entire body tense and her inner muscles ripple around me and she throws her head back and screams.  
  
Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have lasted after she did that. I feel a blinding pressure behind my eyes and I shove myself into her, hard, slamming her against the bulkhead, and I don’t even know what I’m shouting as I empty myself into her. She’s still twitching around me as I feel my knees go weak and we slide down the wall, limbs tangling on the floor.  
  
All I can smell is sex and sweat and her.  
  
I struggle to get my breathing back under control. Her body is flush against mine, her hair a tangled mess. My hand goes to her chin and I turn her face toward me. Her skin is flushed and her lips soft and swollen, but when she looks at me I’m not ready for the expression in her eyes. She looks angry, disappointed, embarrassed.  
  
She pulls away from me and clambers carefully to her feet, wincing at unfamiliar twinges in her muscles. I watch her collect her clothing from the floor and disappear into her bedroom. I look down at myself. My heart is pounding, no longer from arousal, but from fear. I tuck myself back into my pants and step warily to Kathryn’s bedroom doorway.  
  
She’s wrapped tightly in a robe, laying her dress uniform out on her bed. She glances over at me, her face unreadable.  
  
“Don’t you think we should talk about this?” My voice is rough-edged.  
  
Kathryn turns to face me. I take a small step over the threshold, but she holds a hand up, palm out, and I stop.  
  
“This was a mistake,” she says, clipping the words off. “I had a moment of weakness. I can only apologise. I hope this won’t damage our working relationship.”  
  
I stare at her. I don’t even know what to think. I feel sick to my stomach.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed.” She turns away, heading for the bathroom.  
  
“So that’s it?” I demand, and she stops, turning back to me. “A moment of weakness, and you’re not even prepared to discuss it?”  
  
“You know this can’t happen again.” For a moment I think I see her lips tremble, then she tilts up her chin and stares straight into my eyes. “Please see yourself out, Commander.”  
  
She goes into the bathroom and closes the door, and my feet move as she’s ordered them to do. Before the door can close behind me I hear the water shower start, and know she’s already stepping in there to wash me off her skin.  
  
=/\=  
  
~Cochrane to Voyager. We’re ready to depart.~  
  
She looks perfectly composed. You’d never know that less than an hour ago I was fucking her against a bulkhead as she screamed her orgasm to the stars.  
  
Two can play that game. “You’re cleared, Cochrane,” I answer neutrally. “Safe travels.”  
  
~We’ll check in as soon as we can. Janeway out.~  
  
The channel closes, the shuttle dips out of the bay on course to the Draelath ship, and I sit back in my chair. All I can do now is wait and hope.  
  
An hour later, Harry announces that the Draelath ship is hailing us. Festan’s scaly face appears on the viewscreen.  
  
~Your shuttle will be returning shortly,~ is all he says, and the channel closes abruptly.  
  
The shuttle appears from behind the Draelath ship, and I spring to my feet. “Harry, open a channel to the Cochrane.” He nods. “Chakotay to Janeway,” I snap.  
  
No answer.  
  
“Chakotay to Tuvok. Respond.”  
  
There’s a brief pause, and Tuvok appears onscreen. Green blood wells from a gash on his head, and my stomach clenches.  
  
~Commander. I request an immediate beam-out to Sickbay for both of us.~  
  
“Where’s the Captain?” I hardly recognise my own voice.  
  
~The Captain is dead. She was shot with a disruptor at close range. The Doctor may be able to revive her.~  
  
Somehow I keep my grip. I turn to Harry. “Ensign, initiate transport.”  
  
His hands shake and he’s pale, but he jumps into action. “Transport complete, sir.”  
  
“Paris, you have the bridge. Tractor the Cochrane into the shuttlebay and raise shields. I’ll be in Sickbay.”  
  
I know as soon as I reach her biobed that there was no way of saving her, despite what Tuvok said. There’s a wound in her chest the size of a dinner plate and the skin around the edges of it is blackened and charred. The Doctor looks up as I approach, closing his medical tricorder, his whole demeanour wretched. “I’m sorry, Commander,” he says. “There was nothing I could do.”  
  
I can hardly bear to look at her. Two hours ago she was warm and alive and coming apart in my arms, and now … I turn away.  
  
“Commander.” Tuvok’s voice is weak.  
  
I move over to his biobed. “What happened?”  
  
“One of us did something that offended the Draelath. I am uncertain what it was. Festan shot the Captain immediately.” Vulcan or not, there’s sorrow in the depths of his eyes. “I regret that I was not quick enough to save her.”  
  
I want to kill him, but I know it’s not his fault. It’s mine. “I’ll expect a full report once the Doctor releases you from Sickbay, Lieutenant.”  
  
I leave without glancing back at Kathryn’s lifeless body.  
  
=/\=  
  
After the announcement to the crew I call Kes to the ready room.  
  
“I was expecting your call, Commander,” she says softly.  
  
“I’m guessing you’ve had some unusual experiences today. Déjà vu, visions?”  
  
“Yes. You were sitting at Captain Janeway’s desk in this room,” she waves a hand, “and she came in and asked what you were doing there. You looked shocked.”  
  
I nod. Was that two loops ago, or three? I’m losing track.  
  
“Then I saw you holding flowers. You and the Captain were arguing.”  
  
“Yes, I remember that.”  
  
“And then you were, um…” She trails off, blushing. “You were in her quarters.”  
  
I’m pretty sure I know where this is going, but I have to be sure. “What were we doing?”  
  
“You were in bed.” Kes twines her hands together.  
  
“In bed? Is that a euphemism?” Because we sure didn’t make it to the bed this morning.  
  
“No, Commander.” She looks up, surprised. “You were in bed together. Intimately. I saw you touch her face. She was smiling at you, and then she said your name and kissed you.”  
  
I can’t swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s the way I’d always wanted it to be. Not that the sex part this morning wasn’t incredible, but afterwards … I always wanted to hold her and tell her how I feel.  
  
“Anything else, Kes?”  
  
“Nothing helpful. I’m sorry, Commander.”  
  
“It’s all right. Thank you, Kes.” I show her out and return to Kathryn’s favourite spot by the viewport.  
  
I don’t think Kes’ awareness of the other timelines is going to help me break us out of the looping. And so far, the time loops haven’t lasted long enough for the Doc to find a medical explanation or Harry and B’Elanna to come up with a technical solution. Which leaves me with only one option. I have to figure out how to change things myself.  
  
I’m convinced I have to save Kathryn’s life. It’s the only thing that’s happened in every time loop, and it’s the only thing I have the power to change.  
  
If I’m lucky enough to wake tomorrow to a world in which Kathryn is alive, I’m not letting her out of my sight.


	6. Loop Six

**VI. Loop Six**  
  
I wake with a start, heart thudding, fling off the covers. “Computer, locate Captain Janeway.” I hold my breath.  
  
~Captain Janeway is in her quarters.~  
  
“What’s the time?”  
  
~The time is 0548.~  
  
“Computer, cancel alarm and reset for twenty-four hours.”  
  
~Acknowledged.~  
  
I duck under the shower. I’m smiling. Fate has given me another chance, and this time I’m going to do it right.  
  
At 0615 I’m ringing for entry at Kathryn’s door. She answers distractedly; when I enter, she’s pacing the room, a PADD in hand.  
  
“Morning,” I greet her.  
  
She looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Tea?”  
  
“I’ll get it. Why don’t you sit down?”  
  
I take the PADD from her hand, usher her to the table and pull out her chair. She sits and raises an eyebrow at me. “Chivalry’s not dead, I see.”  
  
I order my tea and her coffee at the replicator, then slide into my seat opposite her at the table and grin at her. “I’m bringing it back.”  
  
“You’re very cheerful this morning,” Kathryn remarks.  
  
“Why not?” I spread my arms wide. “It’s a beautiful day in the Delta quadrant.”  
  
Kathryn’s eyebrows arch and she glances exaggeratedly around at the climate-controlled room and the stars through the viewport. Her lips quirk up at the corner. “Whatever you say, Chakotay.”  
  
She reaches for her PADD again, but I take it gently from her fingers. “We can go over status reports later, Kathryn. Let’s just talk for a minute.”  
  
She looks like she doesn’t know what to make of this, and I realise just how much we’ve come to depend on work to hide from each other. Hiding from our feelings, hiding from the chasm that’s grown between us. I don’t want to hide anymore, but I also don’t want to frighten her into pulling away, so I get up and head for the replicator again. “What do you fancy for breakfast? Fruit, toast?”  
  
“Some fruit would be great,” she answers. “Thank you.”  
  
Over breakfast we keep the conversation light: the Doctor’s operatic performance at Talent Night, Tom’s holodeck programs, the Delaney twins’ latest conquests. We talk about our favourite vacations back home, the meals we’d love to eat again, what we wanted to be when we were kids. By the time we finish eating and move over to the couch, Kathryn is relaxed and laughing. I could almost believe that Riley had never happened.  
  
I’m enjoying being with her like this so much that I don’t want to spoil it, but odds are tight that we’ll meet the Draelath in the next few hours and I need to prepare her for it. So after her second cup of coffee I touch her hand and wait for her to look at me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”  
  
She listens as I explain what happened in each of the time loops so far, how the accident made me aware of the temporal repetitions, how Kes has sensed some of it as well. Then I tell her that I’ve come to believe it won’t be resolved until I’ve prevented her from dying. She pulls back a little at that; it doesn’t sit well with her scientific, factual nature. She needs evidence, not some esoteric, spiritual solution. But I ask her to suspend her disbelief and stay close to me today, and eventually, hesitantly, she agrees.  
  
We go up to the bridge; as we leave the turbolift I place my hand in the small of her back, something I used to do whenever I had the opportunity but haven’t dared for the past couple of weeks. She flicks me a glance over her shoulder but doesn’t comment and doesn’t pull away. I let my hand drop as she moves slightly ahead, calling the senior staff to the briefing room.  
  
After I’ve filled in the senior staff we head back to the bridge. It’s another three hours or so before the Draelath make their appearance, swooping out of warp and opening fire without a word. Our shields are up, though, and there’s no damage. Kathryn waits through several volleys of phaser fire and three attempts to hail them before she gives the nod to Tuvok to return fire.  
  
“Their shields have collapsed,” he announces. “They are responding to our hail.”  
  
Kathryn nods to Harry to open the channel. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of Voyager,” she addresses the alien onscreen. “Am I speaking to Festan?”  
  
His head draws back sharply. ~How do you know me?~  
  
“According to my first officer,” she waves a hand in my direction, “we’ve met before. Several times.”  
  
~That is not possible.~  
  
But he’s not as surprised as he should be. I wonder what he thinks is impossible: that we’ve encountered his ship before, or that I’m aware of it.  
  
“Be that as it may,” Kathryn continues, “Commander Chakotay claims that we are experiencing a temporal phenomenon. We have detected subspace distortions and tachyon readings in this area. Perhaps you’re aware of them as well?”  
  
Festan is silent for a long moment, then answers grudgingly, ~We are.~  
  
“Any idea what’s causing them?”  
  
But Festan has had enough talk. ~They are irrelevant. You will leave our territory immediately.~  
  
“Festan, we’d like your agreement to travel through this space. We have no hostile intentions, just a long journey ahead of us.”  
  
~Impossible. Outsiders cannot be permitted to violate our borders. Leave immediately or we will not hesitate to destroy your ship.~  
  
I watch as Kathryn draws herself up, eyes hardening. “Festan, we’ve just demonstrated that we’re quite able to defend ourselves against you. We could have attacked you while your shields are down, but we don’t want to fight you. We’d prefer a peaceful solution.”  
  
~Then retreat is your only option,~ Festan spits.  
  
Kathryn sighs. “Understood. Voyager out.” She nods to Tom. “Come about, Mr Paris. Take us on a trajectory that skirts the edge of Draelath space.”  
  
“Aye,” he answers. Voyager turns to starboard, and the Draelath ship takes off at warp in the opposite direction.  
  
I raise an eyebrow at her and pitch my voice low. “I guess discretion really is the better part of valour.”  
  
She gives me a sidelong look. “Since when have you known me to cave in to a bully, Chakotay?” She raises her voice a little. “Tom, as soon as that ship is out of sensor range, plot a new course. We’re going through their space whether they like it or not.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” he grins.  
  
My stomach tightens. I was beginning to hope that I’d talked her into caution this time, that maybe I could avoid her ending up in a fatal situation, but apparently I’ve failed to take the Kathryn factor into account. “Captain,” I murmur, “could I see you in private?”  
  
“My ready room.” She stands. “Tuvok, you have the bridge.”  
  
=/\=  
  
“I think I can guess what you’re going to say, Chakotay.” She gives me that lopsided smile as we take our seats on the couch. “You’re going to say that it’s worth adding six months to our journey home if we can avoid taking Voyager into enemy territory. You’re going to tell me I’m needlessly antagonising an aggressive species and take me to task for my reckless behaviour.”  
  
I smirk at her; I can’t help it. “I think you’re confusing me with Tuvok.”  
  
That surprises her. She puts down her ever-present coffee cup and really looks at me. “Well, what then?”  
  
I lean forward and touch her arm; funny how I can’t seem to stop touching her. “I can’t tell you I’m happy to be forging blindly on into Draelath space. But if you think that’s the best course, I’ll support you. I just want you to be careful.”  
  
“Careful?”  
  
“Of your personal safety. I don’t intend to watch you die today, Kathryn.” I try to keep it light, keep smiling, but I know I’m failing. “I can’t lose you again.”  
  
Whatever she sees in my eyes makes hers soften. She reaches out to clasp my hand, and I curl my fingers over hers, holding on until she gently disentangles from me. “Let’s get back to the bridge,” she says, and I follow her, a step behind.  
  
“Kathryn,” I blurt before we can reach the door. “Have dinner with me tonight.”  
  
She hesitates, her eyes searching mine. “All right,” she says a little uncertainly. “1900 hours, my quarters.”  
  
“See you then.” Before I can stop myself, I reach out and touch the tip of my finger to her cheekbone, trailing it gently along the line of her jaw. I hear her breath catch and watch her eyes darken, and then she steps slowly back from me and turns for the bridge.  
  
=/\=  
  
The rest of Alpha shift is quiet. McKenzie takes command for Beta shift and I follow Kathryn into the turbolift, my hand resting low on her back. We ride in silence to her deck. “See you at 1900,” I remind her as she steps off the ‘lift.  
  
In my quarters I shower, change into jeans and a button-down shirt and replicate a bottle of the pinot she favours. I have half an hour before I’m due for dinner, so I try to relax with a book. But my thoughts keep wandering to her.  
  
I’d wondered if, should we become lovers, it would take the edge off the aching need I have for her, but yesterday’s taste only made me want her more. I wonder if she’s known it all along – that we’d never be able to quench that desire with just once. I wonder if that’s why she’s held back from me.  
  
I don’t regret being with her. God, I can’t regret that. But the look in her eyes when we’d finished – I never want to see that again. She was so angry – I’m not sure if she was angrier with me or with herself. _A moment of weakness_ , she’d said. I don’t want us to come together in the heat of the moment, because we’re angry or desperate or so needy we just can’t deny it anymore. I want her to come to me willingly, knowingly, and if I can’t have that, then it’s better that we remain simply friends.  
  
So that’s what I’ll do tonight: be her friend. Repair the damage I caused, rebuild the trust I broke. Restore our friendship.  
  
At 1900 I collect the wine and take the ‘lift to her quarters. She answers at my chime, and I’m happy to see she’s dressed casually too, in leggings and a blue sweater that looks soft to the touch; it skims her curves and dips a little in the front, enough that I can see her delicate collarbones and the first slope of her breasts. I try not to look, but she catches me anyway and blushes a little as she takes a glass of wine from my fingers.  
  
We sit on the couch, angled slightly toward each other, and she tucks her feet under her thighs, holding her wine carefully in both hands. By mutual, unspoken agreement we don’t talk about work. We talk about instructors at the Academy, books we’ve read, shore leaves we’ve enjoyed. She leans toward me, laughing, when I tell her about the pranks my Academy roommate liked to play on me; she talks about cave-diving on Mars and brushes my knee with her fingers to emphasise her words. When we’ve finished our wine she suggests we eat, and as we move to the table, I slide my hand onto the base of her back and she leans ever so slightly into my touch.  
  
She’s dialled up something light for dinner, some kind of fragrant, spiced vegetable dish, but if you asked me to describe it I’d be hard-pressed. All my senses are taken up with watching her as she delicately picks at the meal with her fork, as her fingertips slide on the stem of her wineglass, a lock of her hair falling forward over her shoulder as she reaches for the bottle. There’s something warm in her voice tonight, some kind of undercurrent. She looks at me from under her lashes as we talk, bites her lip, lets her fingers brush mine as she passes me a bread roll.  
  
I’m trying not to read too much into this; I’m trying to just enjoy her closeness and the easy conversation, but I’d have to be blind not to know she’s flirting with me, more daringly than I think she’s ever done before. And I can’t help responding. She laughs at something I’ve said and her long hair almost dips into her plate; I reach up and tuck the strand behind her ear, letting my fingers trail over her throat. She returns from the replicator with dessert, and when she leans over to place it in front of me I let my hand rest briefly on her hip, my thumb stroking lightly up over her ribcage; for a long moment, she doesn’t move away.  
  
We move back over to the couch and she curls up beside me, coffee cradled in her hands. My arm lies along the back of the sofa. She sips her coffee, places the cup on the low table, closes her eyes, tips her head back to rest in the crook of my elbow. She’s smiling, her face soft, and it takes every last ounce of my willpower not to kiss her. But then she opens her eyes and looks straight into mine, and I know she can see everything I’m feeling.  
  
Her lips part, a quick intake of breath, and she sways slightly toward me. Her hand comes up as though she can’t control it. She places her palm on my chest. I’m sure she can feel my heart trying to thud its way out. She stares at me for a moment longer, and then she leans forward and touches her lips to mine.  
  
Her kiss is light, almost tentative, a question, and I answer her immediately. I draw her lower lip gently between mine and my hand comes up to weave into her hair. She shifts closer, pressing her body into mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth, her arms pulling me into her. The kiss moves from light, through tender and into intense. By the time I pull back a little, trying to catch my breath, she’s trembling. She looks a little shocked.  
  
I brush my fingertips over her lips. “Are you okay?”  
  
After a moment, she nods, and her mouth curls into a smile. “I’ve wondered what that would be like. And now I know.” Her arms tighten around me a little.  
  
I’m almost too scared to ask, but … “So, what happens now?”  
  
She lifts one hand to trace the tattoo on my forehead. I’m gazing right into her eyes, her beautiful, blue eyes. “I don’t know if this is fair to either of us, Chakotay, and I can’t make any promises about tomorrow,” she says softly. “But we could have tonight.” Then she blushes, her eyes shadowed a little with uncertainty. “If you want that. I don’t want to assume.”  
  
“Kathryn …” I can’t help grinning. “I think it’s safe to assume that I want you.”  
  
“Then what are we waiting for?” she almost whispers. She disentangles herself from my arms and stands, holding her hand out to me, and I take it and follow her into her bedroom.  
  
=/\=  
  
I can’t stop smiling.  
  
This time is different. It’s not the wild, desperate fucking of yesterday morning. It’s slow movements and seeking touches, her soft skin against mine. Her lips press to my chest, my stomach; her hands smooth over my limbs. We take our time learning each other, delighting in small moans and tremors. I curl my tongue behind her ear to make her shiver, circle her nipple with the pads of my fingers and watch the gooseflesh prickle her skin, trail my lips along her inner thigh to make her back arch. She comes under my mouth and hands and when she’s stopped gasping, she pulls me up to cover her and takes me in her hand, stroking me until I beg her to stop. She guides my cock to her entrance, spreads her thighs and smiles at me. “I want you inside me,” she whispers, and I sink into her welcoming body. She locks her ankles behind my back, urging me on with soft moans and whimpers and hands that are never still. I lean down to nip gently at her throat and feel her spasm around me, her back arching, and the heat rushes through me and I thrust into her as far as I can go, spilling myself into her.  
  
She lies under me, her hair spread in a honey-coloured cloud on the pillow, and I gaze down at her beautiful face and I can’t stop smiling.  
  
“Oh,” she says, and starts to laugh. “That was …”  
  
“Yeah, it was.” I lean on one elbow, easing my weight slightly off her, my fingers tracing her cheekbone. Her laugh dissolves into a soft, satisfied smile.  
  
“Chakotay,” she murmurs, and pulls me down to kiss her. Her hands stroke over my back, her breasts arching into my chest, and I feel myself hardening again.  
  
“Already?” I can feel her smiling against my lips.  
  
And just as I’m about to answer her, the red alert starts blaring.  
  
We bolt out of bed, scrambling for our clothes; I have to grab the jeans and shirt I wore to her quarters, but Kathryn pulls her uniform on and twists her hair into a ponytail. I’m ready first, so I take the briefest of moments to watch as the black pants conceal her slick and sticky thighs, as she tugs the turtleneck over the sex-flush on her breasts. I feel a jolt of arousal so strong it makes my knees weak, but then she’s shoving her feet into her boots and grabbing my elbow on her way to the door.  
  
In the turbolift she sends me a quick smile that I hope is a promise of later, but then we’re on the bridge and there’s a trio of Draelath ships on the viewscreen, and I realise with a sick chill that there isn’t going to be a later.  
  
There’s no response to our hails, and the battle is quick and fierce. Two Draelath ships are destroyed, the third limps away, and Voyager takes heavy damage. Kathryn turns to me and there’s a deep, gaping gash at her temple from a piece of flying debris. She takes two shaky steps toward me, says weakly, “Chakotay,” and collapses into my arms.  
  
=/\=  
  
“Chakotay to all hands,” I begin over the ship-wide comm. “As you all know, an hour ago we were attacked by a species called the Draelath. We’ve sustained damage, and I’ll need your support and your professionalism as we work to repair the ship over the next few days. I have no doubt you will all give me your best efforts, and we’ll be back on our way home very soon.”  
  
I pause, and glance over at Kes, perched beside me on the edge of the captain’s chair. She gives me back a steadying look and reaches out her hand for me to grasp. With a deep breath, I continue.  
  
“What many of you don’t yet know is that the attack cost us the life of our captain. I know this is devastating news. I know you – we – will all mourn her loss. She was the finest example of a Starfleet officer, the best and bravest captain we could have hoped to serve, and she was my friend. I know you’ll all miss her greatly, and so will I.”  
  
At the helm, Tom’s shoulders are shaking and his head is buried in his hands. I can hear Harry behind me, muffling his sobs in his uniform sleeve.  
  
“Captain Janeway would want us to continue on our journey, and we will. She would want us to keep the faith and make our way home, and we will. She would want us to hold fast to the principles she led us by. And we will. We will never forget Kathryn Janeway, but we’ll honour her by living up to the example she set for us.”  
  
I turn toward the tactical station and meet Tuvok’s gaze. He gives me a slight nod; there’s grief in the depths of his eyes.  
  
“Anyone who wishes to say something about what Captain Janeway meant to them will have the opportunity at her memorial service at 1800 hours tomorrow in the mess hall. I will be available to anyone who needs to talk about this, and I hope you’ll all support each other. Remember that we’re a family, and families take care of each other. Chakotay out.”  
  
When I close the comm channel there’s silence on the bridge; Tom has straightened his shoulders and Harry seems to have regained control of himself. I release Kes’ hand and stand, looking around at all of them. Kathryn’s crew. My crew.  
  
Unless I can make it right tomorrow.


	7. Loop Seven

**VII. Loop Seven**  
  
~The time is 0600. The time is 0600.~  
  
“Computer, cancel alarm. What’s the stardate?”  
  
~Stardate 50652.7.~  
  
I have another chance.  
  
I’m showered, dressed and at Kathryn’s door by 0615. Predictably, she’s already in uniform and pacing her living area, coffee in hand. “Commander,” she greets me. “Tea?”  
  
“No, thank you.”  
  
She stops pacing and comes close, searching my face. “Is something wrong, Chakotay?”  
  
“Yes. But I think I should explain at the morning briefing.”  
  
“Does it affect the ship?”  
  
“Very much so.”  
  
Kathryn puts down her cup. “Then let’s go.”  
  
On the way to the turbolift, she taps her commbadge and calls the senior staff to the briefing room. They straggle in: Tuvok first, looking immaculate; B’Elanna next, in yesterday’s uniform, grease streaking her face and hair wild, clearly having pulled an all-nighter in Engineering; Tom and Harry together, both slightly rumpled and sleepy; then Kes, her pale face flushed.  
  
“You didn’t have to come, Kes,” Kathryn says in surprise.  
  
“Actually, she did,” I counter.  
  
Kathryn gives me an assessing look. “All right, Commander, the floor is yours.”  
  
I activate the internal comm. “Chakotay to the Doctor. I need you to dial into the meeting.”  
  
The Doc’s face appears on the wall screen. ~I’m here, Commander.~  
  
I look around at them all. “This is going to sound unbelievable, but I need you all to listen. We’re experiencing a time loop. Sometime today, we’ll encounter a species called the Draelath. We’ve just entered their space, and they won’t be happy about it. They may attack us without provocation or they may hail first and attack later; it hasn’t been consistent between loops. Whichever path they choose, the Captain will die.”  
  
I have their full attention now.  
  
“Their shielding has some kind of tachyon displacement signature. In what I assume was the first timeline, the impact of our weapons fire on their shields is what created the temporal disturbance. We can collapse their shields with a deflector pulse at inverse harmonic resonance.”  
  
I pause to let them absorb that, and Harry asks, “How come you’re the only one aware of this, Commander?”  
  
“Kes is also aware of the temporal displacement, although not to the same degree. In previous loops, she has described events that took place in other timelines.” They all look at her and she goes pink, but nods. “As for me,” I continue, “I was struck by a tachyon surge during the first loop, which the Doctor treated with a chroniton serum. Something about that combination has made me aware of what we’re all experiencing.”  
  
~Intriguing,~ the Doc interjects. ~I’d like to scan you as soon as possible, Commander.~  
  
Kes is already walking over to me, medical tricorder in hand. “I’m detecting elevated levels of chroniton and tachyon flux, acetycholine and adrenaline,” she confirms. “I’ll defer to your expertise, of course, Doctor, but it seems consistent with the readings you’d expect from someone experiencing temporal displacement.”  
  
“I want this to end,” I say emphatically. “B’Elanna, Harry, you two need to come up with a way to neutralise the subspace temporal effects. Doctor, you and Kes should work on counteracting the temporal flux in my system. In a previous loop you discovered that a combination of the tachyon surge and your chroniton serum caused a temporal displacement in my neurotransmitters. Tuvok, we should raise shields immediately and ready the deflector to emit the resonance pulse. Tom, scan for ships in the vicinity.” I stand. “Let’s go.”  
  
Nobody moves. They’re all staring at Kathryn, who’s remained unusually silent. She nods at them and they file out of the briefing room. I move to follow.  
  
“Commander.” Her voice is steely. “Remain a moment, please.”  
  
I turn back to her, automatically adopting the at-ease posture.  
  
She steps up close and I can see she’s fired up, but I gaze back at her calmly. All I can see is the woman I held in my arms last night, the woman who touched me and kissed me as if she loved me. There are many things I regret about the past few days, the past few weeks, but that’s something I’ll always cherish, even if she has no memory of it.  
  
Her eyes soften as she looks into mine. “So, Chakotay, how many of these loops have you experienced?”  
  
“This is the seventh.”  
  
“And I’ve died in every previous timeline?”  
  
“Yes.” I lower my gaze, not wanting her to see the reflection of those memories, but she knows.  
  
“I’m sorry, Chakotay,” she says gently, resting her hand on my chest. Then her mouth quirks up at the corner. “Although I guess this means I have Ensign Kim’s record beat.”  
  
I cover her hand with my own and wait until she looks at me. “I won’t let it happen again, Kathryn. Whatever it takes.”  
  
Her smile fades and she looks uncomfortable at the intensity in my voice. I release her hand and step back. “We should get back to the bridge,” she murmurs.  
  
“Aye, Captain.”  
  
=/\=  
  
An hour later, the Draelath ship drops out of warp and immediately fires on us. Kathryn nods at Tuvok and he disables their shields with a single pulse. “They’re hailing,” Harry confirms.  
  
After some persuasive talking, Kathryn convinces Festan to allow her to transport to his ship. As before, he sets a time three hours distant and says he’ll send instructions for contact. Harry downloads the protocols onto a PADD and Kathryn calls Tuvok into her ready room. When he comes out half an hour later and tells me Kathryn has gone to her quarters to change, I turn over the bridge and head directly there.  
  
“Enter,” she calls at my chime.  
  
Her quarters are darkened, just like that last time; and just like that time, she’s curled up on the couch, her boots kicked off, staring out at the stars. The memory of that day rushes over me like a fire-flood and I have to clench my fists to battle a wave of desire. I clear my throat, and she looks up at me.  
  
“I suppose you’re here to talk me out of going over to that ship,” she says, a slight smile on her lips.  
  
“Would it do any good?” I walk cautiously over to her.  
  
“Probably not,” she admits. She reaches for the PADD on the table beside her and tosses it to me; I catch it one-handed. “Have we been here before?”  
  
“Yes.” I scan the PADD quickly. “And their terms were the same.”  
  
“What happened that time?”  
  
“You and Tuvok went to the Draelath ship. One of you failed to follow a protocol and they shot you. You died.” I drop the PADD on the table and sit beside her, taking her hands in mine. “Kathryn, if you must go, take me with you.”  
  
“Chakotay, you know that’s not standard procedure…”  
  
“Nothing about this is standard procedure.” I tighten my fingers on hers. “Kathryn, I have to be there with you. If I don’t go, you’ll die.”  
  
She starts to speak, but I shake my head. “I know it’s not logical - I can’t explain it. I just know that if I’m ever going to break us out of this time loop, I have to save you. And Kathryn, I _cannot_ watch you die again.” My voice breaks a little on the last few words and I have to purposefully calm my breathing before I can go on. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, and I really need you to listen, because if I don’t tell you this, things may never be right between us again.”  
  
She stills. “All right. I’ll listen.”  
  
“It’s about Riley Frazier.”  
  
Her hands draw back from mine and her face turns unreadable. “Commander, I’ve told you there’s nothing –“  
  
“ _Stop_. Just stop. Please.”  
  
She twists her hands together in her lap and her face remains set, but she gives me a short nod.  
  
“I’ve watched you die seven times now,” I begin. “Do you remember the first time? When we crashed the shuttle on that planet a few weeks back, and the alien was invading your consciousness?”  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
“You never told me exactly what he made you see. But I’ll tell you what I saw.” This is harder than I thought it was going to be, and I need to move, so I get up and pace a few steps away from her. “You were so still and so pale, lying on the ground on that planet. I tried to resuscitate you for what felt like forever. But nothing I did could bring you back, and eventually I had to accept that you were gone. I held you and cried over your body.”  
  
I turn back to her, and I can see in her eyes that she already knows this. Maybe the alien showed her; maybe she just knows how I’d take it if she died in my arms. “Then the Doctor arrived and saved your life, and you and I went sailing on the holodeck. And everything went back to normal.”  
  
She shifts uncomfortably. She knows damn well things didn’t just go back to normal. I know she still sleeps even less than she did before that day; that she roams Voyager at night, distracting herself from thoughts of death, tracing her hands over the bulkheads of the ship that carries us, connecting with the people who serve her. And I think she knows that I’ll never be the same, either.  
  
I sit facing her again, and this time when I take her hands she twines her fingers into mine. “I wanted so much to touch you, that night on the holodeck,” I tell her. “I needed to know you were really alive, and there with me. But I didn’t, and I think you know why.”  
  
She drops her gaze, and I see a blush creeping over her cheeks. “Because if you had touched me, we might have done something I’d regret.”  
  
“Yes.” I wish I could tell her about last night. I wish I could tell her she didn’t regret it then. But that was then, and this is now.  
  
“You kept the resolution I made for both of us,” she says so quietly I can barely hear her. “Thank you.”  
  
“I did it to keep the promise I made to you,” I reply. “But I’ve found that promise very hard to live with, and it’s been especially difficult since that night. I’ve been lost, Kathryn. Do you know what it’s like to watch the person you love most in this world die, then come back to life, and to not be able to hold her and tell her you’re so grateful she’s alive? To be afraid every day that you’ll lose her again?”  
  
I see her eyes widen, and I realise I’ve said it – said the words I can’t take back. No hiding behind careful flirtation or made-up stories this time. It’s out there.  
  
“Oh, Chakotay,” she says softly. Her fingers tighten on mine and her eyes are swimming with tears. I wish I could stop here, in this moment, but I need to tell her the rest.  
  
“I couldn’t think of anything else for weeks afterward. The need to go to you and hold you was almost overwhelming. I’d lie awake at night wondering if I should check myself into the brig just so I wouldn’t be able to go to your quarters. And then I met Riley and her cooperative.”  
  
Kathryn swallows.  
  
“You know about the neural link. Well, Riley read my thoughts. She knew what had happened to you and how I felt about you. And she offered me what you couldn’t. Being physically close to someone, holding them, giving and receiving comfort. I’m sorry I accepted that, Kathryn. I’m sorry I was weak. Most of all, I’m sorry that I hurt you.”  
  
She’s quiet, and I can’t see her face; she’s bowed her head. But I see the tears dripping from her chin, falling onto our joined hands in her lap. It twists my heart and I have to look away so I won’t start crying myself.  
  
“So you see why I have to go with you today,” I continue eventually, when I’ve got myself back under control. “I believe the only way I’ll stop living through your death every day is if I prevent it, and the only way I can do that is if I’m there with you. So please, Kathryn. Let me come with you.”  
  
=/\=  
  
I stand next to Kathryn on the transporter pad, tugging at my jacket; these damn dress uniforms never were comfortable. She nods at Ensign Martin at the transporter controls. “Keep a lock on us, Ensign. We may need a quick getaway.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
  
I feel Kathryn’s fingers brush the back of my hand, lightly, and then she straightens. “Energise.”  
  
We rematerialise on the Draelath ship, facing Festan and several armed soldiers. Festan steps forward. “Captain Janeway. Commander Chakotay. Follow me.”  
  
They lead us to a small chamber, where one of the Draelath indicates a screened area at the back of the room. “You first, Commander. Disrobe and submit to a complete search.”  
  
I’m not looking forward to this, and as it turns out, I have good reason not to. The Draelath’s idea of a body search is unpleasant and intrusive, to say the least. I grit my teeth and put up with it, wishing Kathryn didn’t have to go through this. When I’m permitted to dress and I step out from behind the screen, Kathryn sends me an enquiring look. I give her a grim nod and she tightens her lips and takes my place.  
  
Her face is set when she emerges from behind the screen, and she turns immediately to Festan. “Have we satisfied your inspection protocols?”  
  
Festan jerks his head at the guards. “Escort them to the meeting chamber.”  
  
We’re marched down a dim corridor and into a large hexagonal room with a vaulted ceiling. There’s a dais at the back of the room. One of the Draelath nudges us toward it, his disruptor in my back. “Kneel,” he says peremptorily. I glance at Kathryn and she nods, almost imperceptibly. We sink to our knees.  
  
Festan appears from a door behind the dais. He’s dressed in voluminous orange robes and has some kind of jewelled collar around his scaly neck. He stands on the dais and I’m momentarily thankful for the Draelath rule forbidding us to look him in the face during this negotiation; he’s two metres tall, the dais raises him another half-metre, and we’re kneeling. The ache in my neck would have been unbearable.  
  
“Outsiders,” he begins. “You have dared to enter Draelath space and have attacked this vessel. The punishment for this transgression is immediate destruction. However, as you claim to have been unaware of your trespass, we have agreed to your request to speak with us. Explain your petition.”  
  
Kathryn straightens beside me. “Festan, as I explained before, Voyager is alone in this part of the quadrant and we’re simply trying to find the most expedient route back to our home. All we ask is to be allowed to travel peacefully through your territory. We have no wish to harm you.” She pauses, then adds, “And we didn’t attack you – we simply defended ourselves against your weapons. That should be proof enough of our intentions.”  
  
I can’t help thinking that Festan is only allowing this contact because it’s obvious that Voyager outclasses his ship. Kathryn is too diplomatic to state it explicitly, but one well-aimed photon torpedo could take them out while their shields are down.  
  
“Explain how you were able to disrupt our shielding. Have you been surveilling us?”  
  
“We weren’t aware of your species until this morning.”  
  
Festan isn’t buying it. “And yet, with one shot, you disabled our shields. This is evidence of prior knowledge of our military capabilities.”  
  
Kathryn says carefully, “I spoke the truth when I said we’d never met you before today. However, one of my crew claims that there is a temporal paradox at work here, and gave us the information we needed to defend ourselves without causing harm to you.”  
  
All at once, the level of tension in the chamber rises, and Festan is pointing a disruptor at Kathryn’s chest. “You have manipulated the timeline to defeat us?” he roars.  
  
“You mean you’re aware of the temporal distortions? Did you create them on purpose?” And Kathryn looks up into his face.  
  
Too late, she realises her mistake. Festan presses the trigger and a beam of energy spurts out from the disruptor, and I throw myself sideways into its path.  
  
I’ve never felt pain like this. It sends fire through every nerve, collapses every vein, enters every cell in my body and sucks them dry. It knocks me backward into Kathryn’s arms and through the white haze of agony I see her face. Her eyes are wide and terrified. She screams, “Chakotay,” and I try to reach a hand up to her face, to tell her it’s all right, but I can’t seem to move. My hands and feet are numb.  
  
“Janeway to Voyager. Emergency transport to Sickbay!”  
  
I want to keep looking at her, but she’s fading. I close my eyes.  
  
“Don’t leave me,” I hear her whisper, and then she’s tightening her arms around me. I can feel myself going. I don’t want to die – I don’t want to leave her - but in the end, it’s all right. I’ve saved her.  
  
This is the way it should be.


	8. Unravelled

**VIII. Unravelled**  
  
There’s a dull ache behind my eyes and a harsh pain in my chest, and I can’t seem to move my limbs. I can hear soft voices and the quiet, familiar hum of warp travel. I open my eyes.  
  
I’m in Sickbay.  
  
But I’m supposed to be dead. How did I get here?  
  
“Chakotay?”  
  
I’d know that voice anywhere. My heart, my aching heart, stutters. I did it – I saved her. She’s alive.  
  
And so, in spite of everything, am I.  
  
A gentle hand touches my chest and I open my eyes, and I’m looking into hers. “Welcome back,” she whispers.  
  
It takes a couple of tries to find my voice. “Kathryn, what’s the stardate?”  
  
“It’s 50656.1. For a dead man, you didn’t miss much,” she says, but the shadow in her eyes belies her attempt at levity. I can see it in the tension around her mouth and in the way she holds her shoulders: she’s been through hell, and so have I, but we made it through.  
  
“It’s tomorrow,” I breathe.  
  
I start to smile, and her lips soften in response. “I take it that’s a good thing, Commander?”  
  
“It’s perfect,” I answer, and she smiles back at me, that brilliant, beautiful smile that stops my heart.   
  
It’s a brand new day.  
  
I move to sit up and Kathryn presses gently on my chest. “Take it easy, Chakotay. You’re going to need some time to recover.”  
  
The Doctor appears on my other side, tricorder in hand. “How are you feeling, Commander?”  
  
“Like a shuttle landed on me.”  
  
“That’s hardly surprising. You were hit at almost point-blank range with a disruptor blast. Fortunately, you had access to the best medical care in the Delta quadrant. You’ll make a full recovery.” He presses a hypospray to my neck and instantly my head clears and my limbs come back to life.  
  
“Thanks, Doc.” I grin up at him. Sometimes I think he talks himself up because we’ve all come to expect it. But he’s right; a lot of us wouldn’t be here without him.  
  
Kathryn gives my shoulder a squeeze; she seems in no hurry to stop touching me, and I’m tempted to stay right where I am just so I can enjoy it, but the Doc flips his tricorder closed. “You can go, Commander, but I must insist that you rest in your quarters for the next forty-eight hours.”  
  
“I’ll make sure he does, Doctor.” Kathryn helps me off the biobed and winds her arm around my waist. We walk slowly out of Sickbay and through the corridor. I feel weak and drained of energy, but I can’t keep the grin off my face.  
  
Kathryn guides me into the turbolift and calls for my deck. I could lean against the wall in here, but she keeps her arm around my waist and I have no intention of pulling away. I glance down at her, tucked against my side, and realise she’s looking up at me and her eyes are soft. She looks as though she’s about to say something, but the turbolift stops and instead she smiles and helps me out.  
  
In my quarters, she guides me over to the couch and calls up a cup of herbal tea from the replicator, then adds her own coffee order and brings both cups over, sitting beside me. She curls her feet under her and takes a sip. It seems like she’s stalling, searching for the words to say something, so I decide to take the pressure off.  
  
“How did you reset the time loop?”  
  
Kathryn relaxes a little, and explains that Harry figured out how to neutralise the subspace temporal distortions with a chroniton-infused deflector pulse. She says the Doctor discovered that the disruptor blast that almost killed me was based on the same principles as the Draelath shielding, something to do with a tachyon field and a harmonic resonance out of temporal sync. The Doc hypothesised that the disruptor blast counteracted the excess chronitons in my neurotransmitters and returned me to normal space-time. I have to admit, I’m not really paying attention to the science of it. I’m too busy watching Kathryn’s face light up and her hands wave around as she explains it to me.  
  
Eventually she stops talking and leans over to put her cup down on the table. When she straightens up again she seems to be having trouble meeting my eyes. She plays with her fingers, gazes out the window, fidgets with the fabric of her uniform pants. I reach over and pick up her hand.  
  
“Kathryn.”  
  
“I thought I’d lost you,” she says, looking down at our joined hands. “All I could think of was what you said to me before the mission. You asked me if I knew what it was like to watch someone I love die, and not be able to show them how thankful I was when they made it through.” She turns to stare out the viewport. There’s a knotted muscle at the edge of her jaw and tension in the line of her shoulders. “You gave your life for me, Chakotay. You were dying in my arms and all I could think about was how unfair I’ve been to you. And how I have to keep being unfair to you.”  
  
It feels like there’s not enough air in my lungs, but I keep still and silent.  
  
Finally she turns to look at me. “I’ve always known how you feel, Chakotay. You only ever tried to hide that from me because it’s what I’ve asked you to do. And I’m sorry, so sorry for that. I’ve been very selfish. I lean on you because you’ve always been there to support me, and I’ve repaid you for that by treating you badly over Riley Frazier.” She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them they’re shining with tears. “I wish it could be different. I wish I could tell you …” She stops, shaking her head.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me.” I wait until she looks at me again. “Kathryn, I already know. I’ve known for a long time.”  
  
I want to tell her I’ll wait. I want to tell her I’ll never love anyone else, but I know it would only hurt her more. Instead I reach over and carefully wipe the tears from under her eyes. She turns her face into the palm of my hand and briefly presses her lips to my wrist, then draws back.  
  
“I have to get to the bridge,” she says.  
  
I stand, taking her hand to help her to her feet. She takes two steps toward the door, then turns back suddenly and wraps her arms tightly around me. I hold her close for a long, long moment, and then I gently pull away.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispers, laying a hand against my face, and then she leaves without looking back.  
  
It’s not perfect. There are words unsaid, things unknown. But in this moment, everything is as it’s supposed to be. Everything is all right.  
  
I settle back onto the couch with my tea and stare out at the stars, smiling.


End file.
